Given to Destroyers
by PorcelainPills
Summary: Sequel to Blessed and Cursed. A strange ancient song that keeps on being repeated, siblings that passed away seem to suddenly return from the dead, monsters emerge from Hell who inflict wounds which can't be closed... Dante and Nero weren't prepared for the events and problems that suddenly test the limits of their relationship and threaten to rip them apart. Yaoi, DxN.
1. Prologue – In the Absence of Light

Given To Destroyers

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**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.

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**Warnings in general:** Bad language, violence, lots of blood, and yaoi.

**Warnings for this chapter:** murder and torture.

**This is the sequel to "Blessed And Cursed" and you have to read it to understand the story line.**

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Prologue – In the Absence of Light

_About 2000 years ago, shortly after Sparda's rebellion in hell_

Fire. Fire everywhere. Flames that danced sensually, sizzled quietly, a mysterious ancient melody. Red and orange, bright colors that were entwined like two dancers in an elegant waltz, harmonizing together in a glorious symphony. Heat radiated off the fire it in small waves, wafting through the air. Silent snaps whenever a tree branch would crack could be heard, sparks were flying around. One could call it beautiful but the petite woman that lay in the middle of the flames didn't. Not anymore.

She knew there was no escape for her, she was trapped and she was going to die. It was inevitable. Poison ran through her veins, making it impossible for her to move, to even scream. But her mind registered every burn that felt like being stabbed by thousand blades, registered the cracking and breaking of her bones, registered the pungent smell her scorching skin and feathers gave off. Gold turning to black, brilliance fading away. Death. Death lingered everywhere.

A pair of eyes watched her from further away. One eye gleamed in a bright green, the other red, encased by cold steel.

The woods around her continued to burn, the screams of the other victims had long since faded. He – her tormentor – had brought her here for a reason, made others suffer because of her and now had thrown her into the very center of destruction to watch her die.

_Quondam vixit ava pulchra  
__Ad eius aspectu astra evanuerunt.  
__Ea sol erat, alii luna, atro alboque  
__Damnati sunt alter alteri destruere.  
__Aurum est color nostri horas,__  
__Sed nos erimus favillis,  
__Quia memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna.  
__Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna..._

_Once, there lived a beautiful bird,  
__So beautiful that the stars looked pale in comparison.  
__She was the sun, the other was the moon__  
__White contrasting against black,  
__Damned to destroy each other.  
__Gold is the color of our final hours,  
__And all of us will fall to ashes,  
__Because the sun and the moon will never touch.  
__Always remember that the sun and the moon will never touch...  
_

He watched her die from a safe distance, his thumb brushing over the blade of his sword. Blood was smeared on the shining surface. He brushed it away with his thumb, looking at the red liquid indifferently. His facial features were blank while he saw her suffer, he felt nothing when he heard her coven scream and fall one by one. Blissful silence.

It was ironic, he thought. She was a firebird, yet she was dying in flames now. Of course, he was to blame for that. He had abducted and poisoned her. A sacrifice. She needed to be sacrificed.

_You are a destroyer, Verroth_, came the accusation. He stared at the body, merely raising a brow in disinterest. By now, her once golden feathers had completely faded to black.

"I thought you knew that along. Me and your lover are the same, Yulija. You should have known better." He took some steps back, admiring the fire, the chaos he unleashed. "She won't help you. Not this time."

_Pheolae never laid a hand on anyone. Never. You made her a monster._

"I did what I was created for."

_You shouldn't exist._

"Pheolae shouldn't exist as well then", he said cold-heartedly, "We were made to conquer. A pair that leads to victory. She can't live without me and I can't live without her. And _you_ were in the way of our... _task_." His face was an emotionless mask. He didn't bother with emotions, always made sure he was in control of himself. And she needed to die because she was a nuisance. Because she was weak, in the way. And soon, she would be gone.

_It doesn't work this way. It's not that easy and you will regret what you did to me._

"Oh, _Yulichka_ – I won't."

Verroth watched as Yulija dissolved into golden smoke, ascending over the dancing flames into the heavy clouds that hung above the scenery.

But in the end, he did regret his decision. Verroth would only know the consequences of his killings, his plans, about two thousand years later when Dante Sparda took his life.

At the moment though, he took off to leave the scene, returning to the castle of his father to get his sister, not knowing that she already left without him...

–

_Inevitable._

The chains that held her onto the stone wall of the dungeon shackled as she violently tore at them, trying to break her restrictions. The young woman's face was contorted in agony, her body covered in bruises and cuts, her wrists were rubbed raw. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice screamed at her to keep on fighting, to do everything in her power to break free.

_You can't help her._

The pain escalated with every movement she made, made her feel as if she was breathing fire. There was a static noise in her head, dark spots that danced in front of her eyes.

_Creatrice – isn't that a beautiful honorific our father gave you?_

And now her creations had destroyed her lover's coven.

_Sacrifices must be made, my dear sister... But you will never understand the true meaning of that, Pheolae._

A faint orange glow filled the laboratory where she was trapped. A bad sign – it meant that it was already too late for her to –

All of a sudden she stopped struggling. The voice inside her head was _gone_. She slumped back against the wall, breathing hard. Too late. It was over.

There was a strange emptiness inside, a feeling as if something just vanished from deep within her. It could only have one meaning – her mate was dead, their bond was broken.

A scream tore the ghastly silence, inhumane and animalistic. Ram-like horns protruded from her forehead, her eyes blazed bright green and large, leathery wings tore the chains. Her incisors increased in size, her hands became claws.

She fell to the floor, still screaming, bloody tears running down her cheeks. Sadness crashed down onto her, threatening to suffocate her. She clawed at her own skin, watched as her blood gushed out of the wounds.

_Inevitable_, her brother had said before he imprisoned her. _You can't help her._

Verroth – her brother who had been fixated on gaining power. Her brother who couldn't stand to see her happy. Her brother who cut his own heart off after having been rejected by her mate. And now, he has succeeded in killing her.

Pheolae got up and wiped her tears away.

Set up to conquer and reign, divided into two beings, destined to carry a legacy. These were the rules. Rules were made to be broken. And the legacy her father wanted them to carry was given to destroyers.

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_Present time_

The night was unusually cold for June – and unusually quiet. No crickets or birds could be heard. A storm seemed to be approaching, loud and blustering winds made the leaves of the nearby trees tremble.

Several years ago, the mansion on top of the hill had been beautiful and pristine with its Roman pillars that supported the upper two stories. A small tower emerged from the roof, giving the house a mysterious touch.

Yes, the mansion had been beautiful once. Now, it was in ruins, had burnt down – the roof was broken, grime was smeared onto the crumbling facade, ivy was wildly twining around loose bricks. The house was decaying one by one, looking abandoned and run-down. The facade once had been a pure white but now, it was weathered, the bricks broken and shabby. The decorated windows were shattered, the wind gushing through the cracks.

Still, there was light coming out of one of the basement windows... There, in a chamber someone was currently occupied with setting up several things for a ritual.

The room was filled with eerie greenish light that was illuminated by the bare stone walls, tinting the seen in an uninviting hue. The floor was dirty and littered with bones, the only light source were the candles that were placed everywhere.

There was an altar in the center of the chamber, made out of stone, on its feet more candles were placed – the flames were green, the source of the scary lighting. Beneath the altar, blood dripped onto the floor. The blood seeped out of the victim's wounds which was bared on top of the cold stone. There were long gashes on its wrists, its neck and its thighs. The light made the pale skin look ghostly and thin like paper.

A song was played by a celesta, the notes resounding weakly through the dimly lit room. It was a beautiful song, the notes flew like a river, one by one, reminding of a lullaby. A voice was singing along to the melody. It was a beautiful and melodious voice, singing the words with passion:

_Evanescet lux,  
__Ardebunt astri,  
__In favillis mundus iste occidet.  
__Sol ultimus elevabit,  
__Inflammabit omnis,  
__Luna cedidiebit infra eius vim.  
__Hostes omnes extinguebintur,  
__Depugnabit aureum saeculum.  
__Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna  
__Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna..._

It was dark outside, the darkness almost unnatural – black and velvety, no stars, neither the moon were visible. Heavy clouds were hanging in the sky, looking predatory and dangerous.

The voice stopped singing but the celesta continued to play nonetheless. The only sounds in the chamber were the music, the light sizzling sounds of the candles and the dripping noise of the blood that ran down onto the floor.

_Tell me, my love, how far can your insanity take you? Tell me why you had to steal this body._

"I have chosen _you_, my Queen", a voice replied to the unspoken accusation. It was the same voice that had been singing. Still, the celesta continued to play, the music taking a shrill turn to the trebles. The victim was too weak to even raise its head.

"You will call me 'Mistress'", the voice continued. The person came closer and stepped into the green light, revealing a female demon. She had a feminine build – shaped like an hourglass with a small waist – and was a strange crossbreed between a snake and a ram. Her skin was scaled and colored in a rusty red, the scales of her face and stomach had a yellowish tint and seemed softer, resembling human skin. Her legs were covered in a zigzag pattern and she had a long, pointed rattle-like tail. Her eyes were emerald green, the pupils two red slits and between her full blood red lips, a split snake-like tongue darted out occasionally. Her incisors were sharp and long, also reminding of a snake. There were black, ram-like horns on her forehead, her ears pointed like an elf's. Long, dark red and slightly wavy hair spilled down her shoulders, covering her breasts. She wore a long, dark cloak, obscuring her from her victim that continued to lay motionlessly on the altar.

"Your suffering will be over soon", she cooed, patting the victim's head with one head while the other slipped under her cloak, pulling out a dagger.

_Liar. _

"You are so beautiful, so pure – and that's one of the reasons I've chosen you." Her scaled hand slid down the victim's body, stopping at the stomach. A hiss made its way through the she-devil's throat.

"I've waited a little too long, apparently, but I can take care of that." She stabbed her victim in the gut. It didn't react much, close to dying anyway. She pulled the dagger out again, licking the blood off.

_'Creatrice', huh? That's what your father called you, right? You're a thief. A murderer. Maybe your brother had been right all along. You're a destroyer and I should have never let you inside my life._

"Mmh, excellent", the demoness commented, admiring the body of her victim that simply laid there, breaths coming out in short huffs. She ignored the small voice in the back of her head, dizzied by the coppery and rich taste of her victim's blood on her tongue. "Don't worry", she assured it, "You will be reborn. I will improve you. I will make you _invincible_. You will be mine and you will do as I say. We have a task to complete."

Her hand slid up to the face of the victim and she cupped its cheek. "Forget everything of your previous life, you will be created anew. Forget about modesty, about restrictions. These things don't exist when you're with me."

The tune in the background faded out slowly and stopped eventually. So did the heartbeat of her victim.

"Excellent", the demoness said again and suddenly, her hand was enveloped in a black mist and she began to mumble in an ancient language, the mist slowly creeping over to the victim, getting thicker and mixing with the blood shed beneath the altar. The rivulets flowed upwards, back into the body they had just left, the wounds previously made were closed and the skin of the victim fell down like an empty shell. The victim grew a new skin, different from the pale skin it just shed – it wasn't a chalk-like white like before but a light, golden tan. Feathers erupted from the new skin, covering the whole body of the victim and bright light filled the whole room.

"_Numquam tanguntur sol et luna__!_", the demon ended her spell, raising both of her arms and approached the altar.

The round eyes of the victim opened. They were completely black – no pupil could be made out. The now crimson lips parted and the victim sucked in a breath.

"You're awake!", the she-devil cooed delightfully, petting her newest creation's hair affectionately.

"Yes, my Mistress."

_Never love a destroyer. Never love what can destroy you. Never love..._

The tune had started to play again in the distance, sounding strangely menacing...


	2. Adornment

Given To Destroyers

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**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.

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**Warnings in general:** Bad language, violence, lots of blood, and yaoi.

**Warnings for this chapter:**sex and veeeeeeeery light BDSM

**A/N: **I'm not very comfortable with writing sex scenes and I hope this turned out okay. Tell me what you think, okay?

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Chapter 1 – Adornment

_Admit it, you're madly in love._

I smiled softly and nuzzled my nose in the crook of Nero's neck who was still sleeping soundly.

It's been about a year since he moved in here with me at the office and about half a year since we became mates.

During those months, many things have changed, all for the better. The best thing was that Nero was slowly recovering from the trauma and depression he had suffered from the last year. He seems to be very comfortable here at the office and it makes me incredibly happy to see him smile and laugh. Also, Nero's self-esteem enhanced more and more and he finally stopped beating himself up over every little thing. He was much more relaxed, his brash attitude returned and the fire in his eyes is burning brighter than before. Said eyes were closed now, long eyelashes pressed against his rosy pale skin.

Carefully, my fingers ghosted over his slightly parted plump lips. Maybe I was a little obsessed with his lips but I love kissing him and the way his lips would press against mine before our tongues would dance together while Nero used his tongue piercing in the most arousing ways one can imagine.

Nero's fascination with body modifications had also infected me. I had considered getting tattooed several times before but … well, I confess – I was a little scared. Considering that I had been stabbed, burnt, beaten, swallowed by various monsters and many other things in my life, it sounded ridiculous that a tiny needle to my skin scared me. Anyway, Nero convinced me in the end.

"Getting tattooed is a sensual act, Dante", he had said, "The needle breaks your skin and it burns in a delicious way. The feeling of having a permanent mark, a piece of art under your skin – it's addictive, believe me. H-Hey old man, put me down!"

He didn't get a chance to continue because I had grabbed and dragged him upstairs into our bedroom.

Some days later, we went to the studio together. I showed the tattooist the motive – the skull that was attached to Rebellion's handle – and before I knew it, he had already started to apply the lines onto my shoulder blade. Because of my demonic healing it didn't take long to copy the motive from the sheet to my skin. Meanwhile, Nero had been talking to the piercer of the parlor. She seemed to be quite captivated by his devil arm.

"So it's... real?", she had asked, sounding completely astonished.

"Well... yeah."

"Whoa, impressive... can I touch it?"

My devil side stirred at that, getting possessive. _I_ was privileged to touch that arm, no one else.

"Erm..." He was getting uncomfortable but she got the hint and laughed lightly.

"Alright, I won't touch it. But can I take a closer look?"

"Sure." He lifted his bringer and she regarded it from all sides. "Amazing. Hey Sean, you have to take a look at that when you're done. It's friggin' amazing."

The tattooist laughed in response. "If you say so."

Nero scratched his nose, a habit I found unbearably cute.

"Wait, the nails are real too?", the piercer continued to ask. "And those scales? And the glowing? It's all natural, no implants beneath your skin?"

"Nah, it's all real."

Then, I was too occupied with the feeling of the needle scratching my skin to listen to their conversation. Somehow, I was glad that she didn't even question why he had this demonic arm. His bringer was still an issue for Nero but the people we met seldom asked him about it, usually minding their own business.

"How's it going, old man?" Nero interrupted my train of thoughts some moments later, standing in front of me.

"He's doing fine", the tattooist had answered for me, "We're almost finished, too." The machine continued its buzzing for a couple of minutes.

"What were you talking about with her?", I asked him, referring to the piercer.

He smiled broadly in response, brushing back a strand of hair and showing me his newest piercing. It was placed in the shell of his ear.

"Nice", I commented with a light smile and reached out for his hand. He took my hand in his, though a little reluctantly – Nero wasn't used to show affection in public.

The buzzing behind me stopped and I sighed in relief. The pain had been bearable, the only thing I found unpleasant was that the tattooist had to swipe away the blood and excess color every now and then, touching the burning wounds lightly and irritating them in the process.

"We're done", he said, "Go take a look."

He packed away his utensils and I raised to my feet and turned to the mirror, straining my neck to look at the tattoo. When I finally found a decent angle, I gaped in awe. The eyes of the horned skull gleamed bright red, making it look realistic and dangerous. The skull itself looked metallic and resembled Rebellion perfectly.

So much about the tattoo.

I turned my attention back to Nero who was still slumbering in my arms, his breath smooth and even.

Gingerly, I reached out again, running my fingers through his hair. It was softer than my own, its structure more silky and I loved playing with it – and judging by his reactions whenever I would touch or pull his silvery strands, Nero liked it too.

My hand slid over his cheeks – he's still blushing a lot, always trying to cover it up by rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. I found it adorable whenever he did that and used every opportunity I got to make him blush.

Somehow, we managed to establish some kind of relationship and things are going surprisingly smooth. In the beginning, we had both taken things slow since Nero had been abused and tortured a lot during the last two years. Our demonic instincts took over from time to time and we bit each other and drew blood or left bruises occasionally but I would never hurt him on purpose. I was also careful with suggesting things like bondage. Nero told me he's been electrocuted while being tied up to an examination table and I didn't want him to remember such things in bed. Also, we cuddled a lot – something that had taken me some time to get used to. I've never bothered with cuddling before but considering his past, Nero had a strong need to be held close. I've also never expected that I would enjoy just being close to somebody this much, in fact.

But the sweet and gentle sex gave way to something different after a certain time period of three days, about two months ago. Nero had woken up at noon – even later than me – and stumbled down into the office, only clad in his boxers. I was glad that neither Trish and Lady, nor a customer had been there at that moment. Nero had been holding his head, looking at me with half-lidded eyes. "Dante, I feel strange." His voice had a rough and husky edge to it and I was about to ask him what he meant when I smelled it – demonic pheromones. He was maturing.

I had locked the office, yanked the phone out and thrown him over my shoulder. The following three days, both of us were quite occupied with _mating _onevery surface of the office – behind my desk, up against a wall, on the couch, on the pool table, in the shower... I bent Nero over the bar, the staircase, the kitchen counter... When I say _every_ surface of the office, I mean _every_ surface. We were both surprised how flexible Nero was... and how many positions that enabled us to do – and I felt blood rush to my nether regions at the memories... The maturing had awoken Nero's more carnal instincts, helping him to get in tune with his devil side – a skill that took effect both on the battlefield and in the bedroom. Still, he made sure to kick my ass later for not explaining right away what was going on with him.

I traced his jawline with my index finger, admiring his smooth and pale skin. He was beautiful in every aspect – his face, his body, his soul.

_No wonder I fell in love with him._

Suddenly, his eyelids fluttered open and he stared into my eyes, still sleepy, and yawned loudly. I dove down to kiss him gently and he wrapped his arm around my neck, pulling me closer.

When we broke apart, I leaned close to him, nibbling on his earlobe and whispered softly: "Happy birthday."

He smiled a little and pulled me down again and I let him do as he pleased, it was his big day after all. We made out for a while and as Nero woke up more and more, things got more heated. He ground his hips into mine, earning a gasp from me. Our tongues swirled together sensually and he sucked on mine, his tongue piercing rolling over the tip of my tongue.

He broke the kiss and straddled me, dipping down to gently nibble at the mate mark on my neck, pecking me on the lips afterwards.

"Slept well, love?", I asked him and he shrugged in response.

"Had a weird dream", he replied, lazily rubbing his eyes. "I don't remember much about it though."

"Wanna talk about it?", I offered but he shook his head.

"Nah." His bringer drew circles on my chest. "So, what did you plan for today?", he asked curiously.

"Well, we're going to celebrate at the 'Phoenix' later tonight", I replied, tracing his sides and feeling his muscles quiver beneath my fingertips. "You took some jobs today, right?"

"Yeah, they shouldn't take too long", he confirmed, "The party starts after sunset anyway."

"And after the party...", I whispered huskily, "... you can open your presents."

"Can't I open them now?" He pouted and looked plain adorable yet again.

"Nope", I replied bluntly, kissing him shortly, "Tonight."

"Fine", he huffed and frowned slightly. The frown disappeared with the next kiss though. He melted against me, sighing sweetly.

"Excited yet?", I asked him, "You're turning twenty-one after all."

He rolled his eyes. "The only thing I worry about are Lady and Vera – they seem to be more excited about that than me."

"I'm pretty sure they've done a good job preparing the whole party", I said.

Lady and Veronica – the bartender of the "Phoenix" – were organizing the party because both of them thought I wouldn't be able to get an event going – which I admit is right. My only job had been to invite the guests, the girls did all the rest: catering, decorations and whatnot. Trish didn't take part on the preparations for the party, being out of town and only returning tonight.

Nero's lips descended onto mine again in a sensual kiss but he broke it soon and glanced at the alarm on the nightstand.

"Alright, I should get going now", he mumbled, giving me one final peck and rose from the bed, "Later, babe."

With that, he headed into the shower and I fell back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. Usually, I would have jumped him in the shower but it was quite convenient that he had some missions today – that gave me enough time to prepare the "surprise" later tonight...

* * *

Some hours later, we were at the "Phoenix". Lady and Veronica had really outdone themselves. They've rented a private room which was hidden at the front, right behind the ominous church window. The room was quite spacious and there were comfortable and fluffy leather couches placed around a small circular table. All of us lounged around, chatting amiably while Nero's favorite music resounded from the small black speakers that were placed in the room.

The guests were our friends, some of them were demons, but the major part humans. Nero got to know them through me – he was still new in Capulet City after all. There were some of our clients, too.

Right now, Nero and I sat next to each other on one of the couches. Next to me was Trish, dressed up in a short strapless black dress, smiling lightly as she observed the decorations.

Veronica had made them herself, garlands with blue and dark red roses, accompanied by red and blue light bulbs, tinting the room in a purplish light.

"Alright, boys and girls!", Veronica shouted, balancing a tray with twenty shot glasses. She was dressed up in her usual gothic attire, replacing the black with dark red. The dress reached down to her knees and was decorated with lots of lace. Its back was cut out so that it showed off her tattoos. A fancy crimson ribbon was wound around her left arm, decorated with some silver studs. For some reason she always covered her arms, most of the time with gloves or arm warmers. Also, she wore incredibly high plateau boots that looked quite heavy... how was she able to even lift her feet?

Veronica placed the tray onto the table and I eyed the drinks. _Lucifer's Blood_, the house drink of the "Phoenix" which was enriched with one single drop of demon blood. Here, they claimed that it was the blood of Lucifer himself – an interesting marketing strategy. Combined with the alcohol, this beverage made sure you threw all your concerns (and probably also your money) away. All of the guests snatched a glass.

"Come on, Dante, say something", Lady urged me and gave me a wide smile. She was dressed in white, like always, wearing a top with lace trimmings and a pleated skirt. Somehow, she seemed to be quite relaxed... Oh, so she was drunk already. I actually liked drunk Lady, she didn't try to shoot me all the time.

I grabbed a glass myself, standing up and pulling Nero with me, pressing him close to me and smiling encouragingly. He blushed, not liking to be in the center of attention.

"Two years ago, this little punk shattered my world – literally. He kicked me in the face." Everyone laughed. "So kid – erm, I mean _Nero_, you're all grown-up now after all – let's hope you keep that cocky attitude of yours."

"Sure", he smirked, "Someone has to kick your ass after all, _old man_."

"Raise your glasses for Nero!", Veronica butted in, knocking down her shot and everyone did the same. The effects showed immediately.

"Daaaaaante...", Nero whispered into my ear and leaned close to me, a warm smile on his lips. "Let's dance..."

How could I decline such an offer? All of us stayed in the VIP room for dancing, not really in the mood to go downstairs to the crowded dance floor of the club.

Nero wrapped his arms around my neck, pressing himself close to me, our hips rubbing together. His fingers tangled into my hair and he sighed quietly, absentmindedly twisting some locks around his fingers.

"Enjoying yourself, love?", I asked.

He hummed contently in response, placing a peck on my lips and rested his forehead against mine.

"Don't drink too much though", I reminded him, "You need to stay awake for … _later_." The last word sent a shiver down his spine and I heard his inner devil purr at the promise, my own devil half answering with the same deep purr.

Nero pulled me down for another kiss, slipping his tongue inside this time which earned us some wolf whistles from our guests. He pulled away, rubbing his nose and blushing a rosy shade of pink.

A slow rock song was playing – something that was a little too slow for Nero's usual music taste. Blue lights shone down upon him, making the pinkish tint on his cheeks stand out even more. He would have looked innocent if there hadn't been the wicked smile that formed on his lips and the teasing twist of his hips that he gave me before grinding against me. I chuckled lowly, kissing him on the forehead and we continued to dance for a while before Veronica called him out.

"Nero, time to unwrap your presents!", she announced, dragging him back to the couches and pressed a wrapped present into his arms. "That's from Lady and me."

Nero stared at it for some seconds, then turned back to her. "You shouldn't have –"

"Don't protest, just unpack it."

I sat down next to him and watched as he tore off the paper easily with his claws. His eyes widened when the shiny paper was gone. "You... you – Vera, I'll kill you."

It was a vibrator. I couldn't hold back my laughter and Nero leaped up, chasing Veronica through the room.

"It was Lady's idea!", she squeaked, giggling madly and kicking off her plateau boots as she ran away from him. Lady was giggling too, sitting opposite to me.

I still had trouble catching my breath. Most of the guests were laughing as well, watching in amusement as Nero and Veronica ran through the room, acting like kids. The other half just sat there a little awkwardly, sipping on their drinks.

After a while, Nero settled back down, covering his face with his bringer. Trish was the next one to give him her present which he accepted with a mumbled "thanks". He tore off the paper to reveal … handcuffs, flavored lube ... and something that seemed to be a new tongue ring.

"Oh god..." He blushed even deeper, almost the same dark red as my coat and I tried to stifle my laughter again – without success.

Trish, Lady and Veronica were smiling widely and Nero just shook his head, his lips pressed together tightly, unsure whether he should laugh or scold them. "Erm, well... thank you."

"Aww, come on Nero!", Lady said, her voice a little slurry, "I bet this stuff will come in handy for you and Dante when –"

"Hey, let's unpack the other presents!", I cut in quickly. I didn't want Nero to feel humiliated, it would spoil his mood.

By now, he was unwrapping a present of the small incubus and succubus coven. Ariana, Eric and Darius were friends of Veronica and Nero got to know them through one of her art exhibitions.

Nero ripped off the paper and stared at the black lacquered box. "Come on, open it", Ariana urged him and he lifted the lid, revealing some small fancy bottles that were filled with colorful liquids.

"Please don't tell me this is some kind of aphrodisiac", he said dryly, "Come on guys! Do you all think our sex life is that boring?"

I coughed on my beer at that. Eric pulled Nero close to him, whispered something in his ear and wriggled his brows. Never trust incubi... Nero sported the same evil grin when he pulled away, thanking them for their present.

Most of our friends had fortunately refrained from giving him sex toys. Our human friends mostly gave him CDs.

When Nero finished unwrapping the last present, he was grinning broadly again. He leaned close to me, kissing my neck, and whispered: "Let's go home, baby. I want to unwrap _your_ present."

He pulled me with him and we both said our goodbyes. Several people were chuckling when we went outside but neither of us cared.

We drove back on my bike. The alcohol had been burned out of my system thanks to my demonic healing but Nero was still slightly affected by it, running his hands over my sides during the entire ride and purring deeply.

We made our way back to the office and the instant we stepped over the threshold, Nero started tugging at my clothes. I caught his wrists. "Patience, love."

He pouted, giving me a glare. "But –"

I cut off his protests by kissing him. "Come on." I took his hand and guided him into the direction of our bedroom. When we were at the door, I pulled out a blindfold, obscuring his view. His devil side growled lowly, obviously not liking the restricted vision.

"What's that for?", Nero asked curiously and let himself be led by me. I gently placed him onto the bed.

"I have to set up some things", I explained, "Just wait here. And don't peek."

His mouth curled into a smile and he leaned back onto the pillows. Quickly, I fetched a bowl filled with ice cubes from the kitchen, running back to our room. There, I lit the candles I had set down everywhere earlier and slipped out of my clothes. Clothed in only my boxers, I made my way back to the bed.

Nero's head moved in my direction when the bed dipped, his smile getting broader. I crawled on top of him, smoothing my lips against his and taking off his clothes as well. He moaned lowly when my hands roamed over his bare skin and I felt my own arousal stir at the sounds he was making.

When the final piece of clothing was gone, I slipped the blindfold off his eyes and urged him to turn around, straddling him and sliding my hands over his back. He hummed in pleasure, smiling softly.

I reached out for the massage oil on the nightstand and started to spread it onto his back, kneading his firm muscles. Shivers went down his spine and in a matter of minutes, the room was filled with the aroma of his arousal and the strawberry-scented oil.

"Mmh, Dante...", Nero moaned loudly, turning his head to the side.

"You like that, love?", I asked softly, rubbing his shoulders and he moaned again. "I take that as a 'yes'", I chuckled, kissing the top of his head. "Did you enjoy the evening?"

"Yeah, the girls have really outdone themselves", he replied, "I'm not so sure about their presents though."

"Now that you mention it... What did Trish give you?", I asked him, "I couldn't get a closer look at it."

"A vibrating tongue piercing", he said with a hint of laughter in his voice. "I didn't even know things like these existed. I guess we could try –"

"Fuck yes."

"Pervert."

"Aw, come on", I said, squeezing his muscles and making his breath hitch, "We can't let it go to waste."

"Fine", Nero groaned, arching into my touch, practically _melting_ beneath my hands. I buried my thumbs into the dimples of his lower back, rubbing the spots and his breath caught in his throat for a moment before he moaned louder all the more.

"Someone's quite vocal today", I chuckled.

He blushed crimson in response. "Shut u-ahhh..."

It was fascinating and really erotic to watch his muscles ripple and twitch. Combined with the sounds he made, it was quite hard to focus on massaging him. Also, he looked incredibly sexy in the dim candle light that mingled with the blueish glow of his demonic arm, creating interesting shadows and reflections on his body. My devil side purred in my head, taking in the sight, brimming over with pride at having such a gorgeous mate.

"Dante...", Nero whispered after some moments.

"Yes?", I asked, tracing his shoulder blades with my fingertips.

"Mmh, fuck me."

"Patience, love", I said for the second time tonight, laughing quietly at the annoyed huff Nero let out. I let my hands slide down the line of his back to his buttocks, cupping his ass, kneading the soft flesh, and teasingly brushing over his entrance.

Nero sighed pleasurably, his head lolling to the side. I reached out for the items on the bedside table, grabbing a small black candle and cautiously let the wax drip onto his back.

Nero inhaled sharply when the thick liquid hit his skin. "Oh my god..." He moaned, writhing beneath me. "What's that?"

"Wax", I replied, pausing. "Is it too hot?"

"No..." He arched his back, trying to get used to the new sensation. "Well, stings a little but feels quite nice."

I waited for a moment, letting the first layer cool a little before dribbling more wax onto his back, loving the contrast of the black splotches against his pale skin. Then, I rubbed the viscous liquid into his back, feeling Nero's entire body going slack while his breathing became faster. The volume of his moans and sighs rose with every passing minute and when he began to squirm, I pulled away.

I took one of the ice cubes into my mouth and traced the lines the wax had left. Goosebumps erupted on Nero's skin and he shivered, groaning loudly, devil side purring like an engine. I drew patterns on his skin with the cube until it was completely melted, licking up the little water rivulets that flowed down his body, enjoying the sounds of pleasure that escaped his mouth.

Carefully, I peeled off some of the wax, deliberately brushing against the reddened over-sensitized skin beneath it. I leaned down, gently trailing kisses down his spine before sitting back again and rolling him over, softly smiling at the impatient and wanton look Nero gave me.

He pulled me down and gripped my face with his hands, thumbs gliding over my cheekbones, before kissing me urgently. We both gasped for air when we parted and I worked my way down his body – over his throat, where I nibbled at his Adam's apple, feeling his vocal chords vibrate beneath my lips, before sliding to his collarbones and lower to his nipples, laving them with my tongue, feeling the pebbled structure that contrasted to the cold metal that was pierced through them.

I reached out for the massage oil again, rubbing it onto his chest. My fingers danced over his stomach and I watched his abs contract and relax, traced the lines and curves of his body. My hands slid over his naval, down to the V-shaped dip of his torso and he bucked his hips, indicating where he wanted to be touched.

"Damn, Nero...", I breathed, captivated by the erotic display in front of me. Nero was sprawled out on the bed, legs spread, manhood standing proudly between his firm thighs. His flushed chest was heaving up and down while he panted air into his lungs, his hair was sticking to his head, completely disarrayed, his cheeks were a lovely shade of red, his parted lips swollen and kiss-bruised and his eyes half-closed, pupils dilated hugely with lust.

I poured some of the wax onto his chest and he hissed, his breathing becoming ragged. I curiously watched his reactions, dotting his ivory skin with the black wax. He cried out when it dripped onto his nipples, eyes rolling back in his head. I smirked evilly – his nipples were really sensitive and I rubbed them mercilessly, listening to the moans and small whimpers Nero made. He thrust his hips against mine, rubbing his arousal against my thigh.

"Dante...", he rasped impatiently and I teasingly rocked back against him before grabbing another ice cube, running it over his skin. Nero was sweating and shivering at the same time, tossing his head around, biting his lip in an attempt to stifle the noises he was making.

I traced his sides, sliding lower to his hips, brushing over his sharp hipbones, absentmindedly tracing the outlines of his tattoo, and urging him to spread his legs a little more.

He complied and I settled between his legs, getting more comfortable. Slowly, I ran a finger down his cock before grabbing the lube I had placed onto the nightstand earlier, squeezing a good amount of it into my palm, flexing my fingers, warming the gel up. Then, I wrapped my hand around his shaft, stroking him. Nero let out a soft moan, rolling his hips up.

I squeezed the head of his erection, watching as pre-cum began to ooze from the tip, and pressed my thumb into the leaking slit, making Nero shiver beneath me. There was a hazy look in his half-lidded eyes.

"You're spoiling me today, aren't you?", he whispered huskily before gasping silently.

"What do you mean?", I asked cockily.

He smiled widely, letting out a breathy laugh. "You and the girls threw a party for me, you massaged me and now..." He trailed off and bucked into my hand again, throwing his head back.

"You deserve it, love", I said quietly, leaning in to suck at his neck, raking my teeth over his mate mark. My thumb teased the underside of his length, rubbing the tender flesh in small circles while my other hand trailed up his stomach, tracing the curves of his abs.

Nero yanked me up roughly, crushing our lips together, nipping on my lower lip. His hands ran down my sides, both his human hand and devil bringer leaving light scratches on my skin. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of the boxers I was still wearing, sharply tugging on it and quickly discarding the last layer of clothing that separated us.

We ground against each other and I wrapped my hand around both of our cocks, groaning myself when our hot flesh met. Each movement sent electricity down my spine, the pleasurable tension making my skin tingle, and the coil beneath my stomach wounding itself tighter.

We rubbed against each other, moaning at the friction. Again, Nero growled lowly, his hips snapping against mine.

I turned him to the side and settled behind him, running my still slick fingers down his spine to the cleft of his ass, circling his entrance. He shuddered beneath me when the first digit entered him, bucking back instantly. I fingered him for a while, kissing a sensitive spot beneath his ear and nibbled his soft skin.

After some moments, his breath caught and his back arched, while he tried to impale himself more onto my fingers. I toyed with the sensitive bundle of nerves deep within him, listening to the arousing sounds he made. Nero didn't like to be teased – he didn't want to beg for it but this was what I aimed for usually. Clever as he is, he quickly picked up on that and would usually try to make my control snap by pleading in his seductive voice. And most of the time, he got his way.

I nuzzled his neck, licking and kissing his mate mark, hearing my own devil side purr in contentment. I bit down in the next moment, moaning when I tasted the familiar coppery and rich taste of his blood on my tongue.

Nero let out a small sound – a mix between a whimper and a moan – and I pulled my fingers out of him before sitting up against the headboard and pulling him with me.

He climbed over my body to straddle me and rubbed his ass against my erection before slowly sliding down my length, staying still for a moment once I was sheathed inside him.

I pulled him down for a kiss, giving him a taste of his own blood. Nero broke away with a shaky gasp and finally started to move. I gripped his hips, steadying him, blunt fingernails digging into his skin and leaving bruises in their wake while we both quickly lost ourselves in the throes of passion.

This position was one of my favorites – it gave me the opportunity to watch Nero closely while he was lost in euphoria. I loved seeing – and _feeling_ – his muscles tense and relax, loved watching his facial features twist in pleasure when he reached his climax. And god, did he look gorgeous: his skin was flushed, splotches of the black wax decorating it, the oil I had applied earlier making it glisten lightly in the candle light, his eyes were half-lidded, his long eyelashes casting soft shadows on his cheeks.

My grip on his hips tightened more and I sat up, feeling Nero wrap his arms around my shoulders, his head resting in the crook of my neck. His breath tickled my skin and I listened to his moans, greedily running my hands over his backside, pressing him closer to me.

I thrust upwards, meeting every movement Nero made and leaned in to harshly bite at his shoulder, soothing the bite marks with my tongue afterwards. He cried out loudly, bouncing up and down faster. I groaned at the rhythmic clenching of his muscles around my erection, savoring the feeling of the lovely heat of his insides. My hands wandered down his back and I grabbed his ass, helping him to keep the pace when he wavered. His voice rose in pitch and I felt blood running down my back as his talons dug into my skin, leaving deep grooves in their wake.

I breathlessly moaned his name as pleasure and pain mixed, my thrusts becoming rougher and faster.

Nero leaned down and snapped at me, digging his teeth into my jugular, growling possessively as he came, his seed splattering between us. The muscles around my erection tightened, milking my release and I felt the pleasure peak in my body as I followed him over the edge.

Nero slumped down onto me, panting heavily. We lay there together for a minute, devil sides purring contently in the back of our heads. Then, Nero lifted his head from my chest, softly kissing me on the lips.

"Thanks", he breathed when we parted, placing another quick peck onto my lips. "Thanks for everything, Dante. I love you."

I kissed him on the forehead, pulling him closer to me. It was silly but hearing these words from him always made my heart flutter. "I love you too, Nero."

He grinned widely and leaned down to kiss the mate mark he renewed just moments ago, his tongue gliding out to lick and suck at it, devil side lowly growling _'mine'. _He yawned tiredly and I nudged his side gently.

"Wait, I didn't give you my present yet."

A light blush dusted his cheeks. "Dante, you shouldn't –"

"But I did", I intervened, reaching out to fetch the envelope I had placed on the nightstand before. I gave him the present and he simply stared at it for a minute before slicing it open at the side with one of his claws. I watched his face and waited for a reaction.

"A gift coupon for plane tickets", he finally stated, his voice a little shaky from excitement. "Where to?"

"You can choose our destination", I replied and kissed his cheek. "Do you like it?"

"I _love_ it", he replied.

I had wrecked my brains about what to get Nero for his birthday for a long time. The idea hit me quite spontaneously – there is nothing like a trip to get away from all the demon slaying for a while and since Nero hadn't really seen much of the world, I thought letting him decide the destination would be the best.

"Thank you", he said yet again, peppering kisses along my jawline and finally on my lips. The kisses were sloppy and clumsy and I laughed lightly, pulling him on top of me, pressing my lips firmly onto his.

A bubbly and contented feeling settled in my stomach. It made me happy to see Nero so happy.

I sat up a little, grabbing some tissues from the nightstand and quickly cleaned both of us up. Nero continued to purr softly, eyes almost closed. We shared a few lazy kisses and when we were both clean, I pulled the blankets over us, gently rubbing his back, listening to his heartbeat and the deep rumbling sounds of his purring. We were completely silent, just enjoying the other's presence and our post-orgasmic bliss.

After some minutes, I heard a light snoring and slow, heavy breaths. Nero had fallen asleep.

I closed my eyes, leaning back against the soft pillows, waiting for sleep to consume me.


	3. Forget Bliss

Given To Destroyers

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.

**Warnings in general:** Bad language, violence, lots of blood, and yaoi.

**Warnings for this chapter: **language and depressing stuff.

* * *

Chapter 2 – Forget Bliss

Music blasted through the jukebox of the office. Nero got the CD yesterday from one of his friends. I had to get used to the record yet, the music was raw and edgy, the drums dominating the sound; the voice of the singer was raspy, slightly unmelodious. Not what I usually listen to.

Nero, on the other hand, was singing along to it (well, more screaming along to it), seeming completely contented and happy.

I grabbed him by the waist when he passed the desk, pulling him close to me so that he straddled my lap. He didn't resist and we kissed leisurely.

A loud bang at the door made us part though. Lady stomped in, dressed in her usual hunting attire, looking a little disheveled with dark rings under her eyes.

"Turn the volume down", she groaned and rubbed her temple and I tried to stifle my giggle. Lady had a hangover. Never in my life did I imagine I would see that.

"What are you doing here anyway?", I asked Lady who had turned off the music and rubbed her head.

"God, Dante – shut up", was her answer. "My head's going to explode."

"Had a rough night?", I continued, "You went home with Darius, didn't you?"

She froze. "No... Why are you asking?"

"Well, I saw you two fiercely making out yesterday", I replied and wriggled my brows evilly.

She groaned at that. "Aw shit. Nero – please tell me he's lying."

"I'm afraid he tells you the truth", Nero said and couldn't suppress his grin.

Lady reached for one of her guns, aiming for my head – she changed her mind though. Apparently she knew that she wouldn't be able to aim with a hangover. Dante – 1; Lady – 0.

"Anyway, you guys should take a look at this." She threw today's newspaper on the desk. The head line stated _"Brutal murders shock inhabitants of Capulet City"_. Beneath the caption was a picture of a roped-off area, and police men investigating the scene of crime.

"So?"

"So?", she repeated sharply, still clutching her head, "Read it. They found several corpses... or rather pieces of corpses, either burned or ripped to shreds."

"Just another demon running amok. We'll track them down and – "

"Are you even listening, Dante?", she asked, getting aggravated. "The victims were found in different conditions – it's not only _one_ demon running amok." She huffed angrily, hissing in pain afterwards.

"There are painkillers in the bathroom cabinet", Nero told her.

"Thanks", she mumbled, turning to the staircase to get them and Nero meanwhile tried to get up, but I tightened my grip on him, pulling him down for another kiss.

"You have a visitor", Lady mentioned in passing, making us break apart again. "Trish is talking to him outside."

I raised a brow. "A visitor?", I echoed, "Who?"

"Dunno", was her reply, "Never seen him before. Wears a suit, has a chin-beard and a French accent." With that, she climbed up the stairs.

Nero froze at that, seeming to mumble "The fuck is he doing here" under his breath.

"Do you know the guy?", I asked.

"Erm, depends", he replied, "But I have an idea who he could be."

I didn't know who he was talking about and when I was about to ask him, he reached out for the newspaper, reading the article Lady mentioned.

"It says that there were four victims, two right in the center of the city. There was a trail of body parts that led to 'Love Planet'." He paused, looking at me with a frown. "That's the strip club a block away, isn't it?"

I nodded slowly. "Love Planet" – the strip club that had been closed down for several years now, along with the Bullseye Bar. _Ah, the memories. _

"The other two were found at the outskirts of the city", Nero continued. "Third degree burns, bodies almost non-identifiable. Fire demons?"

"Probably."

"What of the others then?"

"Could be any type of demon, basically. Carnage is typical for them."

"Dante, they left a trail of body parts through the whole city", Nero repeated, "I have the feeling that –"

"There are no pills in that cabinet", Lady interrupted him as she came back down, rubbing her eyes.

"Huh? Yes, there are", Nero said with a frown and I shot Lady a look that meant 'shut up'. Nero tried to kill himself last year with an overdose of painkillers and sleeping pills and I thought it was better to keep them hidden from him in case he would relapse – better safe than sorry. I didn't know if Nero ever told the girls about his suicide attempt but both of them knew he had done some things he regretted in the past.

Lady seemed to understand and kept quiet. And Nero was cut off when the door opened again and Trish stepped in. She definitely looked better than Lady this morning, refreshed even.

Behind her, a guy I didn't know entered. He looked around tentatively and flinched back a little when he saw Nero.

"So we meet again", Nero said, his voice suddenly cold, "What are you doing here, Jacques?"

The man stepped closer and now I noticed that he carried a small packet with him.

"I came here to give you this", he replied, attempting to hand Nero the packet and an envelope. When Nero made no attempt to take it from him, he simply placed it on the table in front of us. It was unusual to see Nero so cold. The look he was giving that man was icy, as was his voice.

"Why? Shouldn't you be in Fortuna with your _wife_?" Nero eyed him suspiciously.

"Well... I'm a widower now, in fact...", Jacques replied quietly and the whole atmosphere in the office changed drastically. None of us said a word for a full minute.

"A widower?", Nero repeated uncertainly, the icy attitude slowly melting. "Does this mean... does that..." He trailed off slowly, staring at him wide-eyed. His face paled, and he took a shaky breath.

Jacques sighed. "Kyrie is dead, Nero", he whispered gravely, "She was murdered..."

"_Murdered_?"

He nodded in response.

It was quiet again and Nero stared at the floor; his face blank, unreadable. That emptiness in his gaze... it was almost the same as last year and it unnerved me.

"Anyway, I just came to give you that", Jacques said then, "I'm heading back to my home country. Fortuna is not the same without Kyrie." He turned to leave.

"Wait", Nero said, putting down the packet and disentangling himself from me, stepping closer to Jacques. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"I'm sorry for you too", he said, "She was your sister after all." Both of them avoided to look at each other.

"You said she was murdered", I said and Jacques turned to face me, "Are there any reports yet? Any indications who could be the murderer?"

"It was... " He swallowed heavily. "It was brutal, the killer only left her skin."

All of us stared at him. Nero led Jacques to the leather couch and we sat down, listening to him.

"I don't know how it could have happened", Jacques continued, "Kyrie was in our bedroom, with me. In the middle of the night, I woke up to find her gone. I searched for her in the entire house but she wasn't in any of the rooms. When I went out in the garden, she laid there... or, the remains of her. I didn't hear her scream, I didn't hear anything!" Tears rolled down from the corners of his eyes. Trish gently patted his shoulder.

"Something tells me this has to with demons", Jacques said then, "Kyrie had already set up a testament, it's in the envelope on the table. She left all her diaries to you, Nero. I don't know why but something feels wrong. It seems as if she knew she was going to die." He turned to me then. "Please, do something. I want revenge, justice... or at least an explanation."

I could understand him. Nero, on the other hand, seemed to frown. "She gave me her diaries?", he asked, "Why would she do that?"

Jacques shrugged in response. "I don't know." He looked at his watch then. "I guess I should get going now, my flight departs soon."

He took his leave then and Nero led him to the double doors. There, Jacques placed a hand onto his shoulder, looking into his eyes. "Kyrie's not the only one we lost."

Nero looked confused at that. "What do you mean...?"

"I lost my son as well... your nephew."

Nero's eyes widened in shock. "She's been pregnant?"

Jacques nodded curtly, pressing his lips together. "Only a monster could have done such a thing. Maybe both of you will find out more."

With that, he was gone, leaving us hunters in a deep and thoughtful silence.

* * *

An hour later, Lady and Trish were gone as well and Nero and I laid on the couch, the still unopened package with Kyrie's journals innocently resting on the coffee table.

"You know, I kinda hoped that I had started anew. That I finally left this city and everything that happened there behind", Nero said quietly, "But somehow, it found its way back to me."

"Do you really want to get involved in this?", I asked him and he nodded.

"I am already involved, Dante", he said and reached out for the white envelope. "There's no way to avoid that and I still don't know how to feel about it." He opened the testament. "Things ended quite ugly with Kyrie and somehow, we never had the chance to sort things out or to make up. She _is_ my sister after all..."

"She hurt you quite terribly, Nero", I said and couldn't suppress the low growl in my throat, "You suffered so much because of her."

"Still, Dante – Jacques was right", Nero countered, "I'm holding her last will in my hand. Something feels strange about this."

"Alright then, I guess", I mumbled and he unfolded the white sheet of paper and began to read it.

It was silent for a while as he continued to read the testament. He set it aside then and unpacked the journals.

"It feels strange", he repeated again, "I'm about to read her diaries. But in her testament, she clearly states that I _should_ read them."

He shook his head and reached for the first diary. It was faded, most likely it used to be pink, and the pages were frayed. "Well, here we go...", he sighed, his thumb brushing over the date of the first page, counting back the years. "She started this one when she was about eight years old."

He began to read the entry out loud: _"Nero started his piano lessons today. When he came back home, he complained about the teacher, saying he was kept there against his will. Mom still wants him to go there, even if he obviously doesn't like it. She says that she sees his talent. She said the same to me and Credo when she gave us our instruments."_

"You play the piano?", I asked. He never told me about that.

"I _played_ the piano", he corrected, "After my bringer magically appeared, I never dared to touch one again. Now that I think about it... I actually stopped my lessons when I started the training to become a knight. It was the same with Credo and his musical career. Kyrie was the only one of us who kept on making music and creating art." He thumbed through the pages. "It's not that interesting", he commented, "She writes about school mostly. And about how things were going at home."

He grabbed the next book and observed it for a while, quickly working himself through the first three journals. Whenever he found something interesting, he'd read it out loud.

"_Credo and Nero are always there whenever I need help_", he read, "_As long as I can remember, both of them have always been there to protect me. Today, one of the boys in school made fun of me and Nero punched him square in the face. He received a warning letter for that and was quite nervous when we went back home._" He let out a laugh. "I was terrified, nervous doesn't even come close. _Mom wasn't mad at him, dad on the other hand scolded him for letting his temper take control like that. Credo continued dad's speech... _Ah, whatever."

He kept on reading for a while and I played with his hair, twining the longer locks at the back of his head around my fingers.

"This entry is about one of the concerts we had to play at the opera house", he said after some time, "Everyone in Fortuna had to learn to play an instrument to either join the orchestra or the choir. My piano teacher had drilled me quite a bit so I guess I was remotely talented – I played the solo part back then."

I whistled at that and received a light punch.

"Shut up."

"The solo part, Nero?", I repeated and gave him an admiring look.

He blushed and averted my gaze. "It was weird, you know", he said quietly and I raised a brow. "People kept on complimenting me about my talent, both musical, and later when I joined the Order about my fighting skills, but nonetheless everyone treated me like an invader."

Then he turned back to the journal. "_Schumann Concerto for piano and orchestra in A minor._" He let out a short huff at that. "Damn, it's like she was taking a protocol back then..._ Nero was allowed to play the solo part and every other piano player was jealous. Well, he is the youngest and the only one whose skill level is high enough to play it. _Mainly because I've had a lot of spare time to practice and a merciless teacher._ But still, the others hold a grudge against him, the so-called 'weird kid with the weird white hair'. When I heard Ambrogio and Niccolo talk like that about Nero, I couldn't help but slap them... _Whoa, what? _Oh no, what have I done? No, no, they deserved it! Nobody calls my little brother 'weird'!_"

"_Little_ brother?", I echoed inquiringly.

"Yeah, she's two years older than me... _Nero earned his part in the concert. They should show him more respect for that. _May I add that she was twelve when she wrote that? She never told me she slapped those idiots."

I chuckled in amusement. Seems like we both had underestimated Kyrie. Nonetheless, I knew that she had turned on Nero in the end, so I wasn't able to forgive her just like that.

"This is about the concert itself", he continued, "_All of us were nervous. Gianna had already thrown up, saying the stress was killing her. Nero was the only one who wasn't on edge at all – _yeah, because I didn't care whether I'd play good or not, all of them hated me anyway _– and he calmed me down a little while I tuned my violin, saying 'Keep calm, what's the worst thing that could happen if we screw up?' He was right. I scrambled back to my seat in the second row, searching for Credo at the other end of the stage. He looked slightly nervous – a rare sight – _true – _and kept on readjusting his cello bow. We waited for the conductor to start the concert. All of us started with a chord before Nero began to play a sequence of chords in response... _Wow, she really wrote something like a protocol. She continues to describe the movements, I guess that's not that exciting for you to listen to."

"It is, actually", I countered and gave him a short peck on the lips, "You usually don't talk about your past."

"I don't like to remember it", he said, turning the pages and grabbed another journal when he didn't find something of interest.

I knew that he didn't like to be reminded of Fortuna. Many painful memories lingered there. Still, I wanted to know more of him. For example, I always knew that Nero had a strong connection to music, considering he was always wearing his headphones and even when there was no music, he would just hum to himself. But I didn't know about him playing the piano... or playing in the orchestra.

"That's strange", he mumbled then, "This is about two years later. _I had a strange dream this night. There was this voice and … she was calling me, saying my name over and over again. I followed her, feeling her presence but... I knew that she was _there_, I could _feel_ she was there but I couldn't _see_ her. She kept on whispering about how beautiful I was, saying we would meet soon._ Some months later, she wrote about that voice again: _She visited me in my sleep. She was there, so close but yet not within reach. Again, she told me that I was beautiful and that we would be together. I'm not sure what to think about that... _It seems weird to me."

I shrugged. "Sounds just like a dream to me."

"Maybe...", he said, thumbing through the pages, "_I joined an art course at school. Today's lesson was about simple shading. _She drew things all over the page. I forgot how talented she was."

Nero showed me the page that was littered with drawings of leaves and some exotic fruits I partially didn't recognize.

"Not bad", I commented. The strokes were smooth, the shading detailed.

"_Gabriella__ told me this was a waste of time_", Nero continued to read out loud, "Maybe she was jealous? I never like Gabriella, she was a stuck-up bitch and always eyed me suspiciously, as if she was afraid I'd try to bite her..."

He continued to huff to himself for some minutes. When he calmed down, he carried on: "_Nero came back from his first day in knight training. Credo entered after him, seeming to be quite irritated. Both of them ignored me when I asked what was wrong. Credo stormed into his room and Nero ran outside again. I found him at the beach where he just stared into the ocean. He's not happy here. Maybe he never was in the first place. People here treat him badly and I wished I could help him but no matter how often I assure everyone that Nero is a good guy, nobody listens. This town is crazy and Nero knows that he doesn't belong here. _

_I tried to comfort him, hugged him. We just stared at the ocean and watched the sun disappear behind the horizon. Nero didn't say a single word. I'm worried._" He paused and stared at the page.

"So, what happened that day?", I asked cautiously.

"I've been accepted as a young knight in training", he replied, his voice void of any emotions, "I was twelve years old – usually the training begins at the age of fourteen. I gave all the young knights a reason to hate me even more. I mastered the techniques faster than any of the others, impressing the elders of the Order. I think they were afraid of me though." He was still staring at the small journal in his hand. "Kyrie knew me so well... She knew about everything that was going on in my head", he whispered. "Where did we go wrong?"

In that moment I realized that Nero didn't recover from depression as well as I thought before. And those journals triggered more memories that were eating him up from the inside.

"Maybe we should stop here?", I asked and took the journal from his hands. We shifted on the couch and he laid his head on my chest.

"I guess we have to postpone our vacation", Nero said.

"We don't have to", I countered, "We can still take our minds off all of this."

"No", he said firmly, "I want this out of the way first. Kyrie and I should have ended this last year at her wedding. Something about this just seems wrong."

I grunted in agreement, running my fingers through his hair. Things would get much more complicated from here and I didn't like the turn of events.

* * *

"_Heavy thumps stirred me from my sleep. When I went downstairs, I saw Nero at the piano, practically hammering the keys. I wonder why nobody else woke up? He wasn't exactly being quiet... Then, the melody blended into something much more melodic, something soft, more singable. I didn't know the song, even though it sounded familiar to me... He was probably improvising. _

_When it comes to making music, Nero simply follows his instincts. He plays whatever he likes with raw passion. I've asked him so many times to write down the notes so that he could replay it but he doesn't like to play the same things over and over again. I keep on asking (and probably annoying him) though, maybe someday he will write his compositions down. _

_I stepped closer to the piano, grabbing my violin that laid on the lid, and joined him. I still wonder how I did it, but I replayed the melody and he held himself back, letting me take the lead. When I started to blend out, he whispered 'Repeat it, one octave higher'. I did as he told me, repeating the passage, drawing the notes out before slowly letting the song fade. _

_We were quiet for a while. I asked him what was wrong and he flinched. When I realized that he was crying, I settled down next to him on the small piano bench. He shook his head. _

_'Nero?' _

_He wiped the tears away, refusing to look at me. Nero is strong but very fragile at the same time. He endures so much and usually, he doesn't cry. Something _really bad _must have happened._

_'Please... can you write this one down? Just this once?' I thought that maybe it would put him off his thoughts, even if it was only for a while. To my surprise, he nodded, taking some of the staff paper from behind our music books and wrote the melody down._

_I leaned against his shoulder, my hand gently petting his back. I guess something happened at training today. _

_'You should be in the first violin section of the orchestra', he said in a choked voice, a tear dripping onto the paper, smudging a chord._

_'Thanks', I said, even though I know it's not true. I may be a good singer, but my violin skills aren't good enough to play first violin. 'Do you want to talk about what happened today?'_

_'Niccolo and Mathys called me names', he replied, 'It got quite nasty.'_

_'You didn't beat them up, did you?'_

_His breath caught in his throat and even his sobbing stopped. Caught like a deer in the headlights._

_'You beat them up.'_

_'Kyrie, they even started to insult our family!', he yelled and I shushed him. _

_'Ignore what other people say, it doesn't matter. I accept you. Mom, dad and Credo accept you. If other people don't accept you the way you are, you don't need them.'_

_'But Kyrie –'_

_'Shh...' I petted his hair again. I know those guys always harassed Nero because of his looks. Also, they were afraid of him because he was a better swordsman. I bet they know that Nero is able to kick their asses – _Haha, she crossed 'kick their asses' out and wrote 'beat them' instead, I can still read it though. Where was I?_ – 'I'm done', he mumbled after a while, giving me the papers with the notes. I kissed him on the cheek. 'Thank you.'_"

Silence again. Nero blankly stared at the page. I waited for him to say something.

He swallowed hard. "When I started the training to become a knight, I noticed some... changes."

He stared into space for a minute, biting his lip. "Fortuna always seemed to be a demons hotspot. There were some huge attacks in the past and the Order always made sure to cover their tracks, just like they tried during the savior incident. Back then, I didn't know that it was the Order themselves who created the demons in the first place, of course."

Nero paused, searching for words. "The training takes about four years, after that you are officially a knight. Knights in training are not allowed to go on patrol, are not allowed to actually kill demons. They're not ready to deal with things like these yet. But I..." He trailed off slowly. "I realized that all those dry runs weren't enough. Something animalistic woke up inside me – my devil side. I tried to suppress it but it got worse and worse the harder I tried. One day, I snapped. I was in the forest when I stumbled upon one of those Chimera demons. It attacked me and I ripped it to shreds."

He inhaled and exhaled slowly. "I was fucking terrified", he continued, "I didn't get what was happening to me, why I developed the urge to kill. I was fourteen years old, Dante – it wasn't normal to have impulses like that at this age."

"It is when you're part-demon", I countered, "Nobody was there to explain it to you."

"Well, that's not even the worst part", he sighed, "Those guys – Niccolo and Mathys – " He wrinkled his nose in disgust when he said their names – "they saw me. Imagine how creepy it must have looked – me wrestling with a demon and then killing it. They freaked out, called me mental, saying that my foster parents were stupid to adopt me, that Kyrie was foolish to spend so much time with me..."

He huffed angrily. "I was furious and attacked them, not even considering that I could possibly kill them." He buried his face in his hands. "I felt like a monster and finally realized why everyone in this city always eyed me so suspiciously. They had known all along that something was wrong with me. I found myself agreeing to those idiots – and I don't know... I just felt _helpless_. I didn't know what to do from there, how to handle it. I was confused and scared. I never told Kyrie about this, I was too afraid that she would judge me, that she would turn on me..."

"You're no monster, Nero", I said firmly, grabbing his right hand and placed a kiss on the rough hide of his bringer. "And we discussed this about a hundred times already. We are half-demons – we have these instincts. It's normal and nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about."

He slowly nodded in response. "I know."

Then, he turned back to the journal that was still clutched in his left hand. "I entirely forgot about the song she mentions here", he said slowly, "We played it together whenever I was upset... or on special occasions. It became a ritual."

He turned the page and a folded sheet fell to the floor. He reached for it and opened it – and let out a gasp, staring at it with wide eyes.

I shifted, rubbing his tense back. "What is it?"

"It's our song", he whispered, "I can't believe she actually kept it." He showed me the paper, his hand slightly shaking. Nero's handwriting had been quite messy back then, maybe because he'd been crying when he wrote the notes down.

Here and there, the notes were faded and the paper was slightly crumpled but still very readable – not that I could actually read notes, I played the guitar by ear – and some passages were crossed out.

"We've never named the song", Nero said, a little calmer now, "We just called it 'our song'. I forgot how much time I used to spend with her, that we've used to spend every waking hour together... I just don't understand the way things went..."

It was silent for a while. Nero kept staring at the sheet in his hand, smoothing it carefully.

"Music was my escape", he said then, "It kept me from thinking, occupied me, filled the emptiness I felt. Music doesn't ask any questions, it doesn't judge you. It was one of the few things that made me happy. But after my devil bringer appeared..." He sighed quietly. "My life in Fortuna consisted of taking my mind off the fact that I lived in Fortuna. Ironic, isn't it?"

I kissed him on the forehead. "Maybe we should take a break –"

"No...", he interrupted stubbornly, setting the sheet aside. He skimmed through the pages for a while.

"_There's something beautiful about the ocean. Something that can be seen as a metaphor to love – because the ocean keeps kissing the shore line, no matter how many times it is sent away. I think I read that quote somewhere..._

_Things have turned so difficult. When we were children, Nero and I could spend the entire day at the beach. Usually, I would try to rub sunscreen all over him and he'd run away. He always got burned. Well, of course, considering his fair skin and hair. Nero looks so different from the other Fortunians, almost exotic between all those tanned brunettes. I don't remember the last time we've been at the beach together... Is that growing up? Not having time for anything, stop doing the things you used to love? I wish I'd never have to grown up._"

Nero pressed his lips together tightly and took a deep breath. Remembering hurt him, I could see it in the way he bit his lip, the way he breathed – shaky and uneven –, the way he trembled slightly in my arms.

He pulled away after some moments, once again looking through the small book.

"The entries become less and less frequent with every journal... The next one is only months later:_ I can't believe it. When I came home today, I found Nero sitting at the piano, playing. He hasn't played in such a long time. I didn't recognize the piece, I guess he was improvising. He always told me he liked improvising much more than just playing music at sight. When I came closer, Nero stopped and turned around, facing me with a questioning look. He looked upset. I didn't ask and simply grabbed my violin, tuning it and waited for him to play. The first few chords resounded and I joined with a long drawn-out note. Rachmaninoff's Elegy Trio. Credo was missing though and it sounded a little empty without the cello. I think this is the only song all of us like equally... The last time we played it together must have been two years ago. Since then, both of the boys left their instruments behind, letting them collect dust. _

_The funny thing is that both of them usually would grab their instrument whenever they're sad or upset. But this only happened a few times during the last years. _

_Mom would always be so happy when we played together, it's a thing that brings us closer to each other. But we're growing up. We have to take responsibility. _

_And I'm truly worrying about Nero. I have only a faint idea of what he's going through and I have no clue what to do. He doesn't want _my_ help._

_When he turned to leave, I grabbed him by the sleeve. 'What is it?', he asked. _

_'Just one more song', I pleaded, 'Just one.'_

_He sighed but smiled slightly nonetheless. 'Okay. Which one?'_

_'_Our_ song.'_

_I gave him the notes and he started to play the intro. I joined him soon, playing the flowing melody and we both lost ourselves in the music quickly. But then, something strange happened... Nero was ending the piece and I started singing. He never fell out of beat but we both were a little confused when I chanted the melody. I still don't know where the lyrics come from. They were there, just like that..."_

He trailed off slowly, closing his eyes, trying to remember. "I never wrote the words down", he whispered, "But she kept on doing that. Singing some lines instead of playing the violin. I never asked her why she did it, I simply went with it."

"It's enough now, Nero", I said and snatched the journal out of his hands, "We can still think about what we're gonna do tomorrow." I stood up from the couch, pulling him with me. He tried to avert my gaze but my hand kept his chin in place. "One step at a time", I said softly. "You need some rest."

I couldn't believe we spend the whole day reading those journals... Nero let himself be led by me and upstairs, I stripped him down to his boxers, pulling him beneath the blankets, spooning him from behind.

I didn't like the sad look on his face. I've seen it so many times during the last year... At least he didn't blame himself this time. He wasn't responsible for Kyrie's death and I hope he didn't think of it this way.

My hand ran down his side and I grabbed his demonic arm, interlacing my fingers with his. It was a small gesture but I felt his body next to me relax a little. He let out a shaky sigh.

I tried to contain my anger towards Kyrie. Of course Nero was blaming himself for whatever happened to her!

"Dante...", Nero mumbled and I gently squeezed his hand, "Thanks for putting up with all this."

I kissed the nape of his neck, and he sighed silently. He drifted off to sleep shortly after, energy drained from the earlier happenings.

* * *

My devil side kicked me awake roughly. I rubbed my eyes tiredly, asking myself why the hell it woke me up and groped around for Nero. The spot beside me was empty and cold...

I got up and made my way downstairs. Nero stood at the window, his back to me. My stomach sank. _Please don't blame yourself for her death._

I stepped closer, touching his shoulder lightly. No reaction. "Nero?"

His face was an emotionless mask. This was the relapse I had feared many months before. And again, this girl was to blame. I rubbed his shoulder. "Come on, love – let's go to bed again."

He bit his lip in response. "All I wanted was to protect her", he whispered, "I was willing to sacrifice my life for her. And now she's dead." He started trembling again and I ran my hand down his back. "Why did she die?", he continued bitterly, "Why?"

He leaned close to me, wrapping his arms around me and buried his face in my chest. I petted his hair gently. "It's _not_ your fault she died, Nero", I said firmly and he sobbed in response. "Listen, she was murdered – you are not involved in this. We'll see what we can do in that matter, but don't blame yourself for it. Okay?"

He nodded slowly and I cupped his face with my hands, gazing into his eyes. "Promise me you won't blame yourself."

Nero nodded again. "Alright."

I knew that this was wishful thinking and that overcoming the events would be difficult for Nero. All I could do now was supporting him. I never dealt with depression myself so I wasn't sure what to do.

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, kissing me on the lips and nuzzling my neck afterwards. I scooped him up in my arms, something I did very seldom – usually, Nero would punch me when I even attempted to carry him like this – but now, he let it happen, too exhausted to put up a fight. He clung to me in the bed, kissing me urgently, almost desperately. I could tell that he felt the sense of loss again – a feeling I was very familiar with myself. I just held him close to me, kissing back.

He pulled away after some minutes. "Dante, I'm sorry...", he mumbled, "This feels like a déjà vu to me."

"It's alright", I replied, running my hands down his sides, "No one could've seen that coming. She was your sister after all." She picked one hell of a time to die though... I was angry at her for hurting Nero over and over, even in death.

Still, this was far from over. I was waiting for... well, I didn't really know what exactly. A breakdown maybe? Something close to the reaction Nero had last year before he moved in with me at the office.

He closed his eyes tiredly and I petted his hair again. Maybe he was right – it was strange that Kyrie had written a testament so early – she must have known that she was about to die. Something just didn't feel right and Nero seemed to know more than he told me...

* * *

"_Summer came and I spend most of my time at the ocean – alone. Credo and Nero are both gone – they're spending two weeks in the summer camp_ – Summer camp my ass. More like two weeks of hardcore knight training – _and mom thinks I should do something 'meaningful'. She doesn't like my 'unproductiveness' as she calls it, saying that I should be painting or singing or doing something with the other girls. I'm glad to finally have some time to be all by myself. I don't know why I keep staring at the ocean, why I have the sudden urge to leave Fortuna. But Fortuna doesn't prepare you for a life outside these walls. I only have a vague idea how the rest of the world looks like and I don't think I can make it anywhere else. I'm happy here, even though this town is … well, special in its own way. I hope Credo and Nero will return soon, maybe I can persuade them to make some music with me? I bet I can persuade Nero... _Yeah, she was pretty good at that." Nero frowned as he stared at the journal in his hands. "I didn't know she felt that way. It actually surprises me that there were so many things we didn't talk about."

He turned the page and continued to read. "_I passed the entrance exam of the university. They also showed us the studios today – I think I'm in love._" He chuckled softly. "I remember that day. She was quite giddy when she came home and was singing the whole day..." His smile fell though. "I also remember what happened some days after... _Demons overran the city. Some broke into our house... Neither me, nor the boys were home, only mom and dad _– the whole page is hard to read, I think she cried when she wrote that –_ and when we came back home, we found them dead. Those demons killed them..._"

Nero stared at the page. "We never knew what exactly happened. It was horrible – everything was a mess, blood everywhere, the house a wreck. Credo did his best to calm Kyrie down, sending me away to chase the demons. I should have stayed there and comfort her but he cut off my protests." He frowned. "I tried to repress what happened. Credo became the leader of the family. This was when we stopped to get along. We tried to avoid each other for the next two years and then came the day where Kyrie was attacked and my bringer appeared."

H went back to reading. "She wrote about that voice again the night before the attack: _Her voice haunts me in my sleep but I never see her! She calls me her Queen, her beautiful Queen and that she would always take care of me. And then, she started to sing – it was such a lovely song and it seemed so familiar to me. I didn't understand the words, it was an ancient language. She told me we would be joined soon... _Don't you think it's strange? It doesn't sound like Kyrie at all when she writes about that voice."

Again, the mysterious lady in Kyrie's dreams. I didn't really think it was important but Nero had a different opinion on that.

"_I'm worried about Nero. He's been unconscious for two days now and Credo won't let me visit him, saying that I have other responsibilities. Nero is our brother and he _needs_ us! I didn't went to church as Credo told me to, I went to the hospital and visited Nero. He looked pale, even paler than usual, nearly ashen but the doctor – I think he's called Agnus? – assured me that he would be fine in some days. I don't trust them – everybody talks behind Nero's back after all. Here in Fortuna, everything is about familiarity and as soon as something breaks ranks, people get scared. Nero isn't evil but people are still afraid – and that only because he looks different. _

_I hope he comes back soon. I miss him._"

He stared at the page in awe and raised the small book, showing it to me. Kyrie had drawn him into her journal, a realistic drawing with pastels, mirroring his features exactly. His hand hovered above the picture, unsure whether to touch it or not. "Look at that", he said quietly, "And all that stuff she wrote... I don't get it! Why did things end up like this?"

I think both of us asked ourselves that question now. What if Nero and Kyrie never had that fight? What if she never married Jacques? Well, what if? I didn't like where this was going. Hey, wait – I was jealous. Jealous that Kyrie had known Nero for so many years while I only knew a fraction of his past – and that only because of her journals! Nero didn't tell me much on his own. Of course, I knew that he tried to erase his past but still...

It hit me then that we've only known each other for only about a year and that both of us still had a lot to learn about the other. For some reason that obvious fact felt like a slap in the face to me.

"Alright", I said slowly, "So you played the piano – in the orchestra, to top it off – and were accepted as a knight at the age of twelve."

He looked at the ground awkwardly, blushing and scratching his nose with the back of his hand.

"What else did you keep from me?"

"Well, they had a strict education in Fortuna", he replied, "But that town is greedy. There were incredibly talented kids there. Like that one guy who played the violin like Paganini, or Kyrie who had a those amazing skills in art and singing... Of course, talent was always supported but Fortuna kept their best artists for themselves, never letting them go out of town, keeping them isolated."

I felt a painful twinge at that in my chest. That story seemed familiar to me – things that I shoved into the back of my mind and that I didn't want to remember.

"This is after the savior incident", he continued, "I skipped all the parts where she wrote about how she met Jacques – I really don't need to know about that. Still, I'm surprised she never told me about him... _He has to leave this island. Nero's been here for too long. He's not happy here and I... well... I just can't give him what he needs, what he looks for. _

_Looking back, everything was my fault. The death of our parents, of Credo – and I almost lost Nero. Everyone of them tried to protect me and died because of that. I can't let that happen again, I can't lose Nero, he's the only family I have left now._" He put his hand to his mouth, eyes widened in shock. _"I hoped that the townspeople would accept Nero now – he's a hero! He saved this damned island! But no, they don't. It got even worse. People call him a demon, point at his demonic arm whenever he passes them. And he endures it just like that, he stays here because of me – because I am the last tie that binds him to that place. He doesn't understand that he has to find an other place to call home, I tried to talk to him but he seems to think that I need him. And yes, I do need him but – but things are complicated! And I want to be with Jacques... He even invited me to move into his apartment, even though we've only known each other for about two years and only recently started to date... But we have a connection, a connection as lovers! Things could never work out between me and Nero even though we love each other – it's a different kind of love. It's deep affection. I will always love Nero as my brother, love him in the same way I loved Credo."_

_I always knew that Nero doesn't belong here. And I know that he knows it, too. I want him to stay here, close to me, because I got used to being protected by him. But I can't be selfish. He can do much better than me, he needs someone who can keep up with him and I _can't_. There's no way I can longer watch him suffer but I know that I will hurt him as soon as I will leave. I hope he will do the right thing and leave Fortuna then..._"

Well, it can't get any worse than that, right?

"_Every time Nero comes home from patrol, his energy is drained. Usually, he heads straight to bed. I was surprised when I found him on the sofa of our apartment this evening. His gaze was unfocused, he seemed to be far away... _I don't remember that." He sounded confused. "_We argued. I told him that he has to leave, that I am the one who keeps him from that, I spilled my heart out but he didn't even seem to register it. Maybe he was drunk or even on drugs, I don't know. It makes me feel guilty all over again because I can't help but keep on thinking that it's my fault he reacts this way. He is lying to himself, telling himself that I need him – and yes, I do need and love him – but this is not going to work. I'm the anchor that makes him sink. He has to get rid of me, can't he see?" _He trailed off once again, frowning in concentration. "I don't remember that at all. It could be that I had been drinking earlier on that evening... I worked my ass off to rebuild the town that hated me to make the girl happy that rejected me. I'm such an idiot."

"You're not", I retorted, "How're you supposed to know what's going on in her head?" I blamed Kyrie for all the shit that happened to Nero. She said she didn't want to be selfish but to me, it sounded like she wanted to have Nero out of her way so that she could start a new life.

Nero shrugged. "We never wanted to keep something from the other. In the end, this was what destroyed everything." He turned the page. "_Nero and I are not meant to be lovers. He knows it. He knows the facts but denies the truth. _

_I don't know what to do. I feel guilty for holding him up, for keeping him from leaving. I only see one last way to get Nero finding his own path – I have to hurt him. Hurt him and make him hate me so much that he won't ever return to this island. Being away from me will keep him from dying because of my helplessness – I lost Credo because I can't defend myself, I can't lose Nero because of the same reason. Nero needs a place where people are not that hypocritical. Occasionally, he would talk about that demon hunter he met during the savior incident – Dante – and get this strange far away-look on his face..._"

I wiggled my brows at that and he blushed a little. I couldn't resist and pulled him close to me, placing a kiss on his lips, making his blush darken.

Nero cleared his throat and continued reading. "_That's a start, at least. Nero can take care of himself, I'm sure. I feel bad because I plan on hurting him but I don't know any other way out of it! I've been selfish for too long... _Half a year later:_ I lost my brothers, lost my faith, I lost everything. Jacques helps me to cope with everything but still... Nero is still in Fortuna. Why, why is he staying here? He has no reason for that, nothing that keeps him there! I had been the last tie that bound him to this island so why doesn't he leave? I see him suffer and I know that I am one of the reasons. But I keep my distance. What am I supposed to say to him when we meet? I heard rumors about him and things get worse and worse. What have I done?_"

"Wait... That means she hurt you on purpose so that you could be happy?", I concluded. Logic.

"She wanted me to leave Fortuna and be happy", Nero whispered, his voice shaking slightly but he composed himself quickly.

"Nero, don't you remember that you were broken?", I asked, getting angry. Not at Nero, but at Kyrie. What did that girl think? "She said she didn't want to be selfish but she lied to you."

"Her intention was to –"

"Who cares about that? Maybe she wanted you to be happy but she didn't think about the consequences of hurting you."

"You should have seen her after the savior incident", Nero said quietly, "She was crying for hours, for days, maybe even for weeks. Crying because Credo died, because everything was in ruins, because she didn't know what to believe in. The Order of the Sword shattered everyone's view on the world and Fortunian values. And I couldn't help her because I was busy repairing the city. We are both to blame on how things went."

I didn't get it. How could he be ready to forgive her? How?! After all the shit he's been through because of her, after all the things he did because he was depressed! Of course, Kyrie was not the only one to blame – there was the whole town of Fortuna and the Order – and it drove me crazy to see Nero in pain again.

Still... What if Vergil would show up on my doorstep? I guess I would be happy and angry at the same time – angry because he disappeared after the death of our parents, because he chose to stay behind when Temen-ni-gru collapsed, because he turned into an emotionless monster, because I had to kill him... He would never come back _because I killed him_. For some reason I was still hoping that he was alive although the rational part of my brain kept on reminding me that I took his life. Why am I even thinking about that? I needed to focus on Nero now, not on myself.

Well, I guess it was better that Nero was angry or sad instead of feeling nothing. If he started to feel the "nothingness" he had mentioned when we met a year after the savior incident, things will turn ugly again. It's like he made one step forward and two steps back.

Nero began reading again, cutting off my train of thoughts.

"She wrote that on her wedding day: _This is the last thing I will try. I don't know what to do if this doesn't succeed. I'm not a good actress and I have known Nero for about seventeen years now and the only thing I have hoped for was that he was drunk and wouldn't notice how much it hurt me to lie to him. Nero being a demon doesn't bother me but I told him so, hoping it would finally cut our ties. He told me that he had been drowning and I felt horrible. But he bought what I said and he finally seemed to _consider_ leaving Fortuna. I think I saw Dante again, he came barging in with that demon-thing at the wedding, and I hope that this is the start Nero needs. _

_I composed myself quickly after the demon attack. But now I'm sitting here, breaking down. This was one of the most horrible and most beautiful days of my life. Jacques and I are married now... and Nero is on his way. I don't like that things ended up like this between Nero and me but maybe, some day he will understand and forgive me. Maybe some day, he understands why I did that to him. I hope he leaves Fortuna and will finally find the happiness he deserves._"

Nero shook his head in disbelief. "She cared! She always cared!" He let out a mad laugh, holding his head. "I... I can't believe it."

I didn't know what to say or do and his reaction scared me a little. He was laughing. Why was he laughing?

"Ha, she almost killed me with her kindness", he said, "I don't know what to think and I... I..." He smacked the journal onto the table angrily. "I can't believe it! I thought we could always talk about everything, tell each other everything but she kept so much from me! Things could've turned out so much easier! She could've spared me so much pain and no matter how much I want to I can't blame her because no one could have ever predicted things would turn out like this!"

Something inside him shattered, broke. And suddenly, he was crying, his whole body shaking. I put my arms around him, hearing his devil side howling in misery. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, sobbing harder. I gently stroked his back and his neck, played with his hair. I didn't really know what to say, so I just stayed quiet, hugging him and trying to to calm him down. His hands tightly clutched onto the fabric of my shirt, fingers trembling.

Nero's labored breathing became calmer with every passing minute and he stopped sobbing after a while, sitting back to wipe his tears away.

"I can't believe it", he said in a choked voice and a small chuckle, "First she puts on a show like that and now... now she's gone."

My heart clenched painfully in my chest. It had been hard to see him in pain during the last year but this is even worse. Depression is not an easy thing to deal with but I was ready to help Nero in any way possible. I didn't want to see him suffer – especially not after all the shit he's already been through in his life.

"We left too many things unspoken...", Nero mumbled.

"What?"

"Kyrie and me", he replied, "She never really knew what to make out of my silence. She only understood what I said, never the things I left unsaid but expected me to understand her. That's where we went wrong. But it's something else between us though..." His devil arm slid down my cheek and cupped my face. He leaned in and kissed me softly. We parted slowly and Nero buried his head in the crook of my neck again.

"It's better than feeling nothing after all", he said. The next words came out in a whisper, his voice shaky. "I don't want to sink again. I think I wouldn't survive it this time."

My stomach sank again. This isn't good. I had to take his mind off that. Also, I had the sudden urge to burn all of Kyrie's old diaries. They only made trouble.

"I know what you're thinking, Dante", Nero said suddenly, "Please let me keep her journals. I have the feeling that this isn't over yet. She gave them to me for a reason."

He was right about our way of communication. I sighed in defeat. "Fine, I won't destroy them", I promised, "But I will put them away. They get you down."

"Not yet", he said, "There are still some things I need to know."

"Nero –"

"Please..." He always got his way in the end. _Always_.

"Fine", I said once again and he smiled a little. He was right – being angry or sad was better than feeling nothing. This time, he won't sink into depression because of Kyrie.

* * *

_The air was warm, a faint breeze made the leaves of the trees sway slightly. Birds were chirping in the trees. _

_The clashing of swords interrupted the silence, making the birds fly away with a loud shriek._

_The hot metal clattered together in lightning speed, the two wielders of the swords both determined to win. Sparks flew between the swords and after some minutes of fighting, both of them tumbled backwards, sprawled out on the grass._

"_Let's call it a tie, Verge", I said, breathing hard, my chest heaving up and down quickly._

"_Fair enough, brother", Vergil agreed, obviously just as exhausted as me._

_We both laid there for several minutes, staring at the light blue sky. There were only few clouds there that looked fluffy and soft._

_I sat up suddenly, glancing at something in the distance. Vergil's brows furrowed. _

"_What are you looking at?"_

"_That thing there", I replied, pointing at the rose bushes at the other end of the garden._

"_Dante...", Vergil said, his frown deepening, "A little more precise."_

_I leaped up to my feet, offering my hand to him but he simply huffed in response and jumped onto his feet elegantly. _

"_Arrogant prick", I mumbled under my breath, gesturing him to follow me. We knelt down in front of the rose bush, brushing a few of the branches that obscured the view on the object aside._

"_What is that?", I asked quietly, reaching out for the thing but Vergil grabbed my wrist._

"_Hey, let me go", I protested but he didn't loosen his grip. Again, I reached out to touch the thing but this time, Vergil slapped my hand. _

"_Ow, Verge!" I rubbed my wrist. "I'm just curious –"_

"_And stupid."_

"_We should show this thing to mum and dad", I suggested, "I bet dad knows what it is."_

"_Still, you shouldn't touch it with your bare hands", Vergil said and reached out for the thing with his hands that were covered with light-brown leather gloves. _

_It was a small white pearl, perfectly round and glistening in the sunlight – _

* * *

I jolt awake suddenly, trying to remember the dream. _Vergil and me, a sparring match, a white pearl... Our dad left after seeing the pearl, never returning from the Underworld –_

Nero groaned next to me and his eyes opened, looking at me questioningly. Our devil halves were in tune – that's why I woke up when he slipped out of the bed yesterday.

"Are you alright?", he asked me and I nodded quickly.

"Yeah, just had a strange dream", I replied, interlacing our fingers.

"What was it?", he asked curiously.

"Just a sparring match with Vergil", I said. "Nothing to worry about."

He raised a brow. Apparently he didn't buy it.

"Alright, alright", I said after some minutes, "It was some kind of flashback. We were sparring in the garden and called it a tie. After our match, I spotted something in our garden. It turned out to be a white pearl. Our father left immediately after he saw the thing. It was the last time we saw him. He went to the demon world after seeing this thing and was killed there."

Nero bit his lip, avoiding to look at me. Silence lingered in the room for some minutes.

"Do you remember that crazy idiot Verroth?", Nero asked then and I nodded slowly. He still wasn't looking at me.

"There are some things that happened in his castle I didn't tell you about", he said timidly and I swallowed hard, preparing for the worst.


	4. Interlude – Siren's Chant

Given To Destroyers

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.

**Warnings in general:** Bad language, violence, lots of blood, and yaoi.

**Warnings for this chapter:** gore

* * *

Interlude – Siren's Chant

"Wreak havoc, my child."

Dawn came and she rose from her sleep. She was hauntingly beautiful – her slightly scaly skin was golden, the dress she wore was decorated with small white pearls, plated with jewels. Her long chestnut colored hair was skillfully pinned up, adding to her beauty. A neck corset made out of golden feathers was placed around her neck, shrouding her head with its warm glow. She carried a long, peacock-like tail – the feathers colored in gold, orange and red, like small flames dancing beneath her feet.

The only thing that seemed off in her appearance were the deep black eyes and her incisors that were long and sharp, protruding over her blood red lips. A gentle smile adorned those lips and they opened, a melody spilling out of her throat. Soft and mellow, the volume increasing with every verse she sang.

"_Evanescet lux,  
__Ardebunt astri,  
__In favillis mundus iste occidet.  
__Sol ultimus elevabit,  
__Inflammabit omnis,  
__Luna cedidiebit infra eius vim.  
__Hostes omnes extinguebintur,  
__Depugnabit aureum saeculum.  
__Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna  
__Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna..."_

The sunlight reflected on her golden skin, making her look like a goddess sent to earth. People stared at the beautiful woman, realizing she was a being from another world. She seemed familiar, like someone they knew but her divine appearance gave no clue of who she really was. The woman repeated her song, her siren-like voice resounding through the city. Everything came to a halt, everyone stared at her, tantalized, hypnotized.

Her voice raised in pitch but the people didn't realize it, coming closer although instinct screamed at them to run away, drawn in by the melody. But the beautiful woman was dangerous... Her vermillion lips curled into a smile, repeating the verse over and over.

And suddenly, screams resounded over her singing, people clutching their heads. Her voice was too high for human ears, shattering ear-drums, windows, mirrors. Glass shards cascaded onto the street, shimmering in the early sunlight. A strangely beautiful image of destruction.

The demonic woman had reached her highest note, her head tilted back and she breathed out fire, laughing cruelly. The fire encircled her, spreading quickly, enveloping the whole street, setting everything alight.

The townspeople finally started running away, terrified. More screams resounded in the distance and the woman in the middle of the street laughed even louder, a horrible sound – like thousands of nails scratching over a blackboard.

"The game has begun", she announced then. "The game has begun and no one can stop it. I am your Queen and you will bow before me!" She was still laughing like a madman, her eyes gleaming with sick joy.

The town continued to burn, the first few buildings collapsed, making sparks fly.

"I am the golden one, the child of the sun", she said, a little calmer now, staring at the darkening sky. Ashes were raining down from the heavy clouds, the sun was completely shielded, tinting the whole city in obscure shades of orange and red.

She continued to move to the center of the city square, tilting her head back once again to say one single word: "_Elevate_."

The screams started again when the beasts she called arose from the ground – they resembled huge birds – only that these birds were practically skeletons with long claws and tails; their veins and tendons laying open, patches of skin clinging to their half-deceased bodies. They had huge beaks that were dripping with blood and emitting purplish smoke, their wings seemed to be covered with black goo, their eyes blazing in a harsh and unnatural shade of yellow.

The beasts inched closer to their summoner and as soon as her fire touched them, skin covered their bodies, golden scales and bright red feathers erupted from nowhere, making them look like a crossover between a phoenix and a dragon.

The demons howled loudly and more windows shattered, the remains raining down onto the streets, clinging onto the woman. She petted the heads of her monsters and they fell silent, staring at her, awaiting her orders.

For a moment, no noise was made as the inhabitants of the town stared at the demoness and her creatures. By now, the knights of the city had arrived but it was to no avail – they were captivated by her spell, unable to do anything.

She kept on regarding her monsters, leaning close and whispering one single command: "_Necate_."

Hell broke loose then, the monsters attacking everyone. The sky above the city turned crimson, mirroring the color of the blood that began to flow. Thick smoke ascended as the town fell and burnt.

The demoness watched the massacre attentively, breaking off a small branch from a nearby tree and carved a message into the ground – the lyrics of her song.

Another woman appeared behind her, her long, rattle-like tail creating small noises with every step she took. "Very well, my Queen", she said, her forked tongue darting out, and laid a hand on the other girl's shoulder, "I am very proud of your work."

_Are you, my love? Since when are you proud of killing innocents? Pheolae... or should I call you 'Creatrice' instead? The only thing you are able to create is destruction. _

"Thank you, Mistress."

Both of them watched as their bird-like servants destroyed the city, laughing as the knights failed to protect their city.

The mistress turned to face her so-called "Queen" then. "My darling, our prophecy will be fulfilled", she said with enthusiasm. "My beautiful Queen." She leaned in, placing a soft kiss on the girl's lips who grinned in response, her dark eyes lighting up.

"Follow me, my Queen – we have other cities to conquer."

_You are a hopeless case, my love._

Both women left the burning town, their demons following after them, leaving behind a trail of fire.


	5. Above Us The Waves

Given To Destroyers

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.

**Warnings in general:** Bad language, violence, lots of blood, and yaoi.

**Warnings for this chapter:** swearing and lots of angst.

* * *

Chapter 3 – Above Us The Waves

Hurt. Disappointment. Disbelief.

Those were the emotions that flickered over Dante's face at my words. Suddenly I felt horrible for not telling him about all the things that had been on my mind for months – the bodiless voice that spoke to me in Verroth's castle, the small black pearl that my bringer absorbed on the very first night I spent in Capulet, the fact that Verroth seemed to have done something to me that made triggering hurt me and that I had avoided it ever since then …

But I didn't want to put _that_ _burden_ on Dante as well – I knew that I was complicated enough already and didn't want him to deal with even more problems.

I cleared my throat, not really knowing where to start. "I think I told you that I went through a portal in Verroth's castle and traveled through spheres."

"Yeah, you mentioned that", he said quietly, "But you never said anything detailed about it."

I bit my lip, carefully choosing the next words. "Well... when I traveled through those spheres, I landed somewhere in between."

Dante blankly stared at me. "In between?", he repeated, "What do you mean?" He must think I'm crazy.

"I'm not sure myself", I replied uncertainly, "Well, it was just a blank space. There was a voice that talked to me. It said that I shouldn't die because I was still needed." I avoided saying "The Void". For some reason, that word alone just freaked me out. What was that even supposed to mean? Was the Void the Nirvana …? The Great Nothing? To me it sounded even scarier than Hell itself.

"Needed? What for?", Dante queried.

"She didn't say that."

"_She?_"

"Yeah, it was a female voice."

"Oh..."

Dante frowned in concentration, seeming to think hard about something. Maybe I hadn't been the only who kept something to himself.

"Oh?", I repeated, "What –"

"Verroth had a sister", Dante blurted out suddenly.

"_Had_ a sister?", I echoed. "Hey wait, that's what I've been told as well."

"Who told _you_ about that?"

"Sayume, the witch that helped me back then. Wait, how do _you_ know about that?"

"Cerog told me about her", Dante explained, "You know, the little demon that led me to the castle? He said Verroth's sister was a flesh weaver but passed away suddenly. He also said that she was more powerful than Verroth."

"But she's dead." It was neither a question, nor really a statement. I waited for him to either confirm or decline the sentence. Sayume said that Verroth's sister passed away... Wait, she hadn't been sure about that either, or had she?

"I don't know."

"What?"

"Cerog thought that she couldn't have died just like that", Dante said, "She was powerful, so why did she die?"

"Wait, wait, wait." I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "What are we talking about anyway? A flesh weaver? I've never heard of them before."

"They're some kind of necromancers", Dante explained, "But I don't know much about them myself. All I know is what Cerog told me."

"So what do we do?", I asked, "We need more information. All that we have now are loose ends that lead to nowhere."

"Well, maybe we should catch some sleep first", Dante mumbled, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me closer, kissing my temple. "And we should call Trish tomorrow, she's the specialist for things like these."

"I guess you're right", I said, closing my eyes.

* * *

"_I'll take that one."_

_It was a beautiful necklace, the pale red gem decorated with small golden wings. Kyrie would love it. I paid for the jewelry and left the shop, ignoring the stares of the townspeople when I went down the street. Their glares were practically glued to the sling I was wearing... Couldn't they just mind their own damn business?_

_I sighed, running my uninjured left hand through my hair. Soon Kyrie would have her big event – she would sing the solo at the church. The concert was in less than a month and when I saw the necklace in the shop window, I knew I found the perfect present._

_When I arrived at home, I could already hear her singing. I quickly leaped up the stairs to my room, hiding the present before rushing downstairs into the living room again. _

_Kyrie gently smiled at me._

"_Sounds great", I said and she shrugged, not really confident about herself. I stepped closer, pulling her into a one-armed hug. "Listen, you will be brilliant. They will stare at you in awe, thinking an angel is singing, got it?"_

_She giggled."Don't talk nonsense, Nero."_

"_Hey, I'm just being honest."_

_We were silent for a while. I noticed that she was staring at the piano. Hopefully she wouldn't –_

"_It's too bad your arm is still in that sling", she said, sounding sad._

"_The doctors said that I won't be able to play the piano again, Kyrie." I sighed. I already told her that. About hundred times, in fact. _

"_It's too bad..."_

"_Well, it can't be changed."_

"_Still –"_

"_Kyrie, please", I intervened angrily, "I already told you I'm not playing anymore. Never."_

_She frowned lightly, her bottom lip trembling. "Alright." Her voice was thin. Great, now I've hurt her._

"_I'm sorry", I said softly, "But I... Well, it makes me angry that this was taken away from me, you know?"_

"_It's alright", she repeated, "The reason I'm sad is that we never will be able to play our song together. It was our ritual and now..." She trailed off and took a deep breath. "Never mind, Nero."_

–

"_'Remove the bandages after eight hours', Agnus said", I mumbled to myself as I tried to peel off the gauze. Agnus – the weirdest and shadiest 'doctor' I have ever met. Something about that guy just made my skin crawl. _

_The sling was already gone and I wondered why I didn't feel any pain in my arm. I knew that I healed quite quickly, even if I couldn't explain why – it had always been this way. _

_Gingerly, I removed the cotton and asked myself why I didn't smell any blood. Did the deep cut already heal? Weird. I may heal fast – but not _that_ fast._

_Slowly, I unwrapped the gauze, frowning when my fingertips slid over... scales? Scales?! Where the fuck do the scales come from?_

_I scrambled to the mirror in my room, not bothering to grope around for the light switch. The moonlight would suffice._

_I stood in front of the mirror and bit back a scream. My right arm... what the fuck happened to it? Dark blue scales were running down from my shoulder to my hand. Carefully, I removed the bandages from my fingers and this time, I couldn't suppress the scream. _

_I stared at my hand in horror, regarding the new, glowing appendage. It couldn't be, it couldn't fucking be! This was a nightmare – please, let it be a nightmare. _

_I couldn't stop screaming, I was horrified. Slowly, I reached out with my normal hand, touching the hide that covered the glowing hand, whimpering when I felt its rough texture. It couldn't be! _

_I've always asked myself what was wrong with me and now this. It's official: I am damned._

_There were footsteps in the corridor, quickly approaching my door. A gentle knock on the old wood._

"_Nero?"_

_Kyrie. Thank god I had locked the door. Tch, god. God abandoned me completely, the creepy transformation of my arm was proof for that._

"_Nero?", Kyrie asked again, more urgently this time. "Are you okay?"_

_I swallowed hard, hoping that my voice wouldn't sound too shaky. "Yeah... I just had... a nightmare. I'm alright." I flexed the fingers of my right hand, staring at it in horror._

"_Do you want to talk about it?", she asked. Apparently, I hadn't convinced her that I was fine._

"_No, no, it's okay", I said quickly, "I'm fine." Oh, I was far from fine but Kyrie mumbled an "okay" and left._

_This was horrible. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn't run around with that sling forever, could I? How was I supposed to tell Kyrie what happened to me?_

_I buried my face in my hands, breaking down. People would chase me with pitch forks and torches, just like they did with monsters in the middle ages. Why did shit like this always happen to me? _

* * *

I should be concerned about my mental state but at the moment, all I could focus on was finding sedatives. I knew there had been some in the bathroom cabinet, there _had to be_ some.

I wasn't really addicted to the pills, I was addicted to the numbness they granted me. Fuck feelings. Feelings are complicated, feelings hurt. I didn't want to feel anything right now, I wanted the memories to fade, wanted to forget.

I had felt a lot of pain during the last year, both physically and mentally, but this was a whole new level. I couldn't take it and it scared me. It scared me that this breakdown seemed to be the worst one I've ever had, that it was getting worse every time it happened.

Depression is a sly bastard. Every time you think you've finally beat it, when you think you're happy, it comes back, attacking harder each time. I felt as if I was drowning, couldn't breathe properly, couldn't think. I needed something to calm the fuck down, needed the blissful silence, the comfortable numbness. _Now_.

"Nero?"

Dante. Shit, shit, shit, fucking shit.

"Are you okay?"

_Do I look as if I was fine? _The same crap is always happening to me, over and over again and I was getting sick of it. Goddammit, where were the pills?

"What are you doing?", Dante asked.

"Nothing." Of course he knew what I was doing, what I was searching for. Again, he looked disappointed. That's what I'm good at – disappointing the ones close to me, making them turn their backs on me.

"Where are the painkillers?", I asked before I could stop myself. I wasn't able to control myself and somewhere on the edge of my mind, I knew I should be scared but all I wanted was the numbness I had grown so addicted to. I was desperate and was dangerously close to my breaking point.

"Not here", Dante replied, eying me suspiciously. "Listen, Nero – "

"I'm sorry", I whimpered, feeling myself break apart slowly. "But I need them, Dante. I can't endure this."

He looked shocked for a moment before his face turned into a cold mask. "No."

Silence followed the simple syllable while we just stared at each other. The silence was even worse, it was suffocating me, drowning me, pulling me down. Fuck, I was having a manic episode.

"No?", I repeated angrily, feeling sadness turn into anger. "The fuck do you mean –"

"I'm not gonna tell you where they are", he said, leaning onto the door frame, glaring at me.

I glared back in disbelief. "Dante...", I growled lowly, "I _need_ them. Right now."

He doesn't get it. How was he supposed to know how it feels? Memories eating you alive, burning you so badly that all you wanted to do was numbing the pain? Why didn't he want to help me? I was being ripped apart from the inside, I needed something to calm me down.

"You don't get it, do you?", I asked, my voice much louder than I intended. I was losing it, losing control about my voice, my body.

Dante simply stared at me, his face completely blank and unreadable.

"You don't know the feeling, Dante", I continued, "You don't understand the emptiness I have felt. You know the feeling of loss but you don't fucking know how it feels to be ripped apart by your own emotions!"

I was getting closer to him slowly, my voice getting louder with every word but I couldn't stop myself. "You have no clue how it feels to be finally happy but having a small voice in your ear that constantly tells you everything is an illusion, that everything will be over in the blink of an eye. I have doubts all the time – for no apparent reason. I have a pessimistic view on life and I don't know why. And the worst is that this monster won't stop whispering to me, it's constantly pestering me and I don't know how to make it disappear!"

I tried to shove him out of the way, only hearing a low growl as warning. Somewhere in my mind, I registered that it sounded as if I was accusing Dante for my misery. Great, once again I'm talking without thinking about it.

And before I knew it, we were wrestling on the floor, biting each other, drawing blood. Claws slid over exposed skin, leaving deep scratches behind. This wasn't one of our playful games. No. This was a true fight for dominance. Our human sides had nothing to do with this.

Inhumane growls resounded from everywhere, red and blue flickered through the room and suddenly, I found myself pinned under him.

It wasn't Dante, it was his devil form. I had seen it quite a few times already but now I was _terrified_ when he hovered above me, a sneer on his face.

He snapped at me, burying his fangs in my neck and I cried out in pain. It hurt. It hurt terribly and I felt tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. Again, I managed to destroy one of the best things in my life. Our relationship... where would it go from here?

His bite was an order, an order to submit and my instincts finally ebbed. I gave in. When I stopped struggling, he removed his teeth from my neck.

He sat back, detriggered, and bit his lip. "Nero, I –" He reached out for me but I flinched away.

"Get off me."

"Nero –"

"Get. Off. Me."

He didn't need another warning and took some steps back. I sat up slowly, feeling miserable. Why do things always turn out like this? Yesterday, everything had been fine and now it was in pieces. I felt like a failure once again, incapable of keeping things together. Kyrie died because I wasn't able to protect her and now … Why does everything always get worse no matter what I do or how hard I try?

"I'm sorry", Dante whispered into the silence.

It made me feel even more miserable. It was _my_ fault that he was sad. My uncontrollable emotions were also affecting him. I was being a burden again.

Dante reached out for me and this time I stepped closer, letting him touch my face. He ran his fingers over my cheek, down to my chin and lower to my neck where he ghosted over the wound he just inflicted.

"Shit, I didn't mean to do that", he whispered and I shrugged. I didn't know what to say. I was past my breaking point, had been pushed too far. The numbness I had longed for minutes ago finally set in. I didn't feel anything but the slight ache from my neck. My mind had shut itself up on his own.

We went back to bed but kept our distance. There seemed to be an invisible wall between us. I didn't like the feeling of distancing myself from Dante. I loved him. But still, our relationship seemed much more fragile than we both had initially thought.

I wanted this to work. I didn't want us to grow cold. Things have turned out this way because I didn't know when to keep my mouth shut and when to actually talk. I should have told him earlier about that voice and he should have told me the things he knew.

I turned around and ran my hand over his shoulder. "Dante?"

"Hmm?", came the muffled reply.

"It's okay", I said. Usually, I was too proud to give in first but somehow, everything was different with Dante.

He turned around, avoiding to look at me. "I promised to never hurt you", he said, his voice a little raspy.

"Your instincts took over", I said, "It happens. I'm not mad."

"What if it happens again?", he said in a choked voice. "Nero, my devil side even pondered to kill you for a moment. I lost control over my whole body."

"You would never hurt, let alone kill me", I assured him gently, stroking his cheek. "Besides, it was my fault – if I wasn't so addicted to feeling nothing, this would've never happened."

He seemed afraid to even touch me now and I wrapped my arms around him, snuggling up to him. "Don't blame yourself, Dante. It's alright."

Usually, Dante was the one to comfort me. It felt a little weird that our roles were reversed now.

I kissed him on the lips, slowly and sensually, feeling him relax next to me.

"I love you", he breathed when we parted, "And I'm sorry for doing this to you." He reached out for the bite. The wound was still bleeding.

"I love you too", I said, "It happens, Dante. Don't worry about me."

I didn't understand his reaction – sure, he had bitten me and it did hurt but still... why was he so sad and timid? He didn't act like himself out of a sudden.

"A submission mark is the very last resort for demons – the very last thing to do when they want their mate to submit", Dante said so quietly that I almost didn't hear him. "I promised to never hurt you."

I kissed him again in response. "Shh, it's alright."

We laid awake for a long time, neither of us able to sleep, and I kept on touching him softly, reassuringly. Our devil sides kept quiet all the while. I was too tired to ask myself why. Maybe because of our fight?

It was only now that I realized that both of us had been running away from reality. Our "lovey-dovey"-phase was over. Both of us were new to that relationship-thing and had to keep our nerve now.

Still, I didn't like the fact that Dante didn't return my touches – at the moment, I was holding him and he was completely limp. Usually, he couldn't keep his fingers off me. He was afraid of touching me. What was I supposed to do now? I fucked up big time...

There it is again – proof that my demonic nature only made trouble and it pissed me off to no end that I was thinking that again after I spend the last year to convince myself it wasn't true. It pissed me off that I was relapsing. This time, I wasn't drowning though – I was sinking to a whole new level and now, I even took Dante with me. Why can't I do things right for once?

Dante ran his hand down my back – so soft that I almost didn't feel the touch. "You're blaming yourself again", he breathed.

"It's my f–"

"No, it's not." He gingerly touched the bite and I inhaled sharply. Normally, I felt pleasure whenever Dante would touch the bite marks he left on my body, this time though, pain spiked in my body and I involuntarily flinched away from his touch. We went silent after that and Dante took his hands off me.

No, no, no! Why does crap like this always happen to me?! I pounced on him, glaring down into his eyes. "Listen to me – I don't want you to be sad because of that, okay?", I said firmly, "We have a demonic part of us and yours took over this time. I am not mad, I will not hold this against you. Never. I know you would do the same if the situation was reversed."

He simply stared at me for a moment, blinking in confusion. Then, a weak smile appeared on his face. "That's one of the reasons I fell in love with you."

He pulled me down into a kiss and I sighed in relief. Things were a little fractured but not broken.

We took our time to kiss and touch but Dante pushed my hands away every time I went lower. I was about to ask what his problem was when I felt it – or well, when I felt nothing. It seemed as if he couldn't get it up. He bit his lip in shame, turning away from me.

"Dante –" I touched his shoulder again, pressing myself up against him. Fuck, what was I supposed to do or say? And why the hell was he afraid of touching me all of a sudden? I didn't get what happened. Was it because of one stupid bite? Because we had a fight for dominance?

"I'm sorry", he whispered quietly, still not facing me.

Why was he sorry? If I wasn't an emotional mess, this would've never happened! I wondered if it was because of the submission mark. It made things tense between us, a tension I didn't like because things with Dante had always been so easy and natural. And now, I couldn't help but starting to brood again...

"Don't worry", I breathed, kissing his neck. He didn't react much to that which made my heart sink even more.

What am I supposed to do in a situation like this? I hated feeling helpless, weak and unsure. I had felt like this my entire life and had hoped that I had finally set an end to this – but apparently, I had been wrong … And that made me even more depressed.


	6. As The Storm Unfolds

Given To Destroyers

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.

**Warnings in general:** Bad language, violence, lots of blood, and yaoi.

**Warnings for this chapter:** language, a little gore.

* * *

Chapter 4 – As The Storm Unfolds

I bit him into submission. I can't fucking believe I've done this.

Nero didn't seem to be aware of how bad it was what I did to him but I was restless, disgusted with myself. The mark would be visible for some days – it healed slower than a normal mate mark, meant as punishment.

I didn't like the turn of events, didn't like it at all. Reality caught up to me, to both Nero and me, after six almost peaceful months of togetherness. What was happening now reminded me of my phase after I lost my family – as if someone turned back time.

Why did I feel so helpless all of the sudden? I hated feeling like this – and the only time I felt it this intense was when I watched my mother die. I promised myself back then to never feel this way again.

The office doors opened and interrupted my train of thoughts. It was Trish. "You said we have a problem with a necromancer?", she asked and I was glad that she got straight to the point.

"Kind of", I replied, "Ever heard of a flesh weaver?"

Her eyebrows rose. "Yes, that definitely sounds familiar." She sauntered to my desk, sitting down on the edge. "Where's Nero? He should know about this as well."

"I'm here", came the reply and Nero walked down the stairs, ruffling his damp hair with a towel. He kept it around his shoulders so that Trish wouldn't be able to see the bite. I was still hoping that it didn't form a scar...

We moved to the couch and Trish pulled out a thick book that seemed to be thousands of years old. It was bound in leather with heavy and slightly rusty buckles.

"Lady and I went to the remains of the library of Temen-ni-gru for this", she said to me, "You owe us something for that."

I grunted in response.

Trish carefully unlatched the buckles, opening the book and pushed it towards me, pointing at a picture. It showed macabre zombie-like creatures and dense shadows that wafted around them. Beneath the picture, two words were written in a fancy font: _textor carnibus_ – weaver of the flesh.

"It kinda looks like necromancy", I stated, running my fingers over the page. The yellowed paper felt dry beneath the pads of my fingers, the parchment was slightly crumpled and the ink partly faded.

"There are some parallels between them", Trish confirmed, "But the process in flesh weaving much more complicated and requires more power." She turned to Nero then. "Necromancers can raise the dead – ever watched a horror movie? Reviving and controlling dead bodies – similar to zombies – that's basically what they do."

Nero nodded, indicating that he was listening and understanding.

"Flesh weavers are also able to raise the dead", Trish continued, "But contrary to necromancers, they're not only able to raise and control them but also to form them to their liking."

"Means?", I asked.

"They create their own creatures – and they don't necessarily need a dead body to begin with", she explained, "Creating involves summoning _material_ – I'm not sure what that means but they summon said material and form it afterwards, deciding on their creatures' looks, their abilities, their power. The book says they're the only creatures in the Underworld that are connected to The Void. There are no boundaries when it comes to creating their minions – and that's why they're so dangerous."

I felt Nero tense next to me but he remained quiet.

"Why have I never heard of them before?", I asked with a frown. I was well schooled in those things – demonic creatures, the Underworld and so on.

Trish shrugged in response. "I guess they're rare. There are some demon races that are extinct or almost extinct – maybe flesh weavers are one of them?"

"Hmm, they seem to have a lot of power", Nero murmured. "The ability to form any being you want to..."

"Yeah, some might get power-high", I said, "Like Verroth."

"I thought he was an alchemist?", Trish asked.

I nodded slowly and both of them stared at me, waiting for me to continue. "Cerog told me that it wasn't Verroth who summoned those demons", I explained, "The basic spell was created by his sister who disappeared some years ago."

"How many years ago?", Trish asked.

"I don't know."

"Wait...", Nero said slowly, taking a shaking breath, "_The Void_?"

Trish chuckled at that. "I'm not sure whether that really exists. Legend says that The Void is nowhere. It's a link between three worlds – Heaven, Hell and Earth."

"Like the Nirvana?"

"No. Something different, a place nobody knows much about. And they say that only one creature resides there – the Balancer."

"I don't think that the Balancer actually exists", I said, continuing Trish's explanation. "The Balancer is supposed to … well, to bring balance, as the name says. A creature that is the link between Heaven, Earth and Hell – bullshit if you ask me."

Nero shrugged. "Maybe he does exist, Dante. There are some things in this universe that are unexplainable."

"Some say the Balancer has the power of illusion", Trish continued, pausing for a minute and thinking hard. "I guess Dante is right, though. Just think about it. It's ridiculous – being between Heaven, Hell and Earth would mean that he must have power to rule every world... It doesn't make any sense."

"Well, if he has the power of illusion –"

"Nero, think about it", Trish interrupted, "I can hardly believe there's a devil in the Underworld but we have evidence that Lucifer actually existed – or exists. Since everything is in balance, there must be a God too. But a Balancer?" She shook her head. "No." Again, she pushed the book towards me. "Back to the flesh weaver. Read this."

I pulled the book closer and read the passage she showed me, translating the Latin while reading: "_Before the Great Rebellion led by Sparda, chaos reigned over the Underworld. On top of the world, there was Mundus who was a ruthless archon. His henchmen consisted of two siblings – a brother, the warrior, and his sister, the flesh weaver, created to serve their father..._" I trailed off slowly, staring at the page. The paragraph tickled something in my mind … My father used to tell Vergil and me stories when we were little. Stories about ancient legends, about Heaven and Hell –

Trish cleared her throat, her and Nero looking at me expectantly, apparently not understanding why I stopped. I snapped back to reality, continuing to read.

"_They were kept as secret weapons and it is said that Sparda locked them away, separated from their master. _

_One of them was a fierce warrior who had been made to conquer the worlds while his sister would give him the equipment to make it possible – an alternative plan should Mundus not succeed._"

I rubbed my forehead. "Trish, where does that lead to? And what about Mundus? I thought he's trapped in hell anyway."

"Continue."

Reluctantly, I continued reading. "_In order to strengthen Mundus' reign, the flesh weaver sold her __soul to make a deal with the Devil_ – huh, great. Who do they mean with 'the Devil'? There are some of them in Hell..."

"No, not the Devil."

"Huh? What –"

Trish pointed at the word, tapping the page. "_Daevus_, Dante. With a capital letter. It's a name."

I shrugged indifferently. "Never heard of a Daevus."

"Me neither. But I found a book where he's mentioned. One step at a time. Read."

"Fine, fine." I huffed angrily. "_She sold her soul for power, overcoming the power of both her brother and her master. She formed a spell that would plunge the world into fire, merging both the human and demon world together_... Oh, now that sounds familiar."

"See?", Trish asked, now pointing at the picture, "She is responsible for the things that happened. Remember the part of the spell you found at that bloodbath some months ago? I have the feeling her plans finally have gone underway." She pulled out a sheet, laying it in front of me. It was our translation from about half a year ago. "We need the other parts of the spell."

"Why do you think there are other parts? And from where are we supposed to get them?", I asked and shrugged. "Look, there's no need to panic. Nothing happened up to now."

As if on cue, the doors of the office where kicked open, startling us. Lady stomped in, obviously pissed as hell. Great, more shit to deal with.

"I have a job for you", she hissed, throwing a crumpled ball of paper at me. Then, she turned to Trish. "Those fucking fire demons burnt me. Do you still have some of that ointment you gave me?"

Trish gestured her to follow. She was keeping some of her demonic potions at the office for emergencies like these.

I unfolded the paper and grunted in surprise. "The mission's in Asatrus – isn't that close to Fortuna?"

"Yeah...", Nero confirmed slowly. "So?"

How could I put that into words? … wait. Since when did I have to think about how to talk to him? Or since when was I afraid of his reactions?

"Well... just think about it", I started, "A demon is about to run amok, your sister died under mysterious circumstances and all of that seems to lead to Fortuna."

Before he could comment on that, the girls came back down the stairs and Lady slumped down onto the couch, still huffing. "I've never fought this kind of demon before", she sighed and accepted the cold pack from Trish with a small 'thanks', sighing in relief when the cool gel touched her skin. Only now I noticed the burns on her legs – her skin was scorched and badly blistered.

"Fucking hell", she hissed when she agitated the wounds accidentally.

"Tell us more about the demons", Trish pleaded, carefully applying another potion onto Lady's wounds. The skin healed almost instantly, getting smooth once again.

"Well, they looked like some kind of skeleton-dogs", she said, "With patches of skin clinging to the bones. Those fuckers breathed fire. God, it was terrible. Also, they're hard to kill – fast as hell and apparently quite intelligent. I'm glad there were only two of them."

Wow – Lady admitting things like these never happened. I guess those demons were really dangerous.

"I ran into that guy", she continued after a short pause and screwed her eyes shut in concentration. "Eh, what was his name... ? Ah, it doesn't matter anyway. He asked me if I was a demon hunter and gave me this."

She pulled out a photo, laying it in front of me. "It's Latin, Dante. He said he's from Fortuna and that the town was attacked by similar demons and two women."

"_Two_ women?", Nero echoed with a raised brow and Lady nodded in confirmation.

I looked at the photo and sucked in a breath. It looked like the bonfire we stumbled upon some months ago. The text scratched into the dirt was the same, too.

"Well... shit." I got up to get the translation sheet.

"Dante, wait", Lady said and I settled back down. "This guy also said one of the women was singing those lines. It's a song – they're lyrics."

"A song?", Nero repeated, "Did he record it, by chance?"

"Yeah, but the tape isn't that useful", Lady said and gave him a small black voice recorder. "You can't really hear her sing – there are people screaming, drowning her out."

Nero let the recorder slip from one hand to the other, deciding to give it a try and pressed play. Lady was right though – it wasn't of much use. There were too many screams and other sounds that made the melody unrecognizable.

"Vera has a friend who works in a sound studio", Nero mumbled, "Maybe he can help me filtering the melody out."

Trish and I went to business then, trying to decipher the text on the photo. It was the same spell we had found half a year ago. This time though, the last line was there too: _Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna, __Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna..._

We repeated the words hundreds of times already and both of us were aware that we finally found the last line of the warning of the demonic bonfire from back then. The paper with the translation was resting between us, laying there innocently as if it wasn't a powerful spell.

_Remember that the sun and the moon will never touch, Remember that the sun and the moon will never touch..._

I didn't like feeling paranoid. Damn, why did this make me so uneasy? I had saved the world some times before ... well, usually the demon masters didn't announce themselves in such a flashing manner so maybe that was the reason I was scared?

No, what am I even thinking? I'm _not_ scared, I'm simply paranoid. I thought about Verroth again and his warning. Rumors said he had a sister … But she was dead, right?

No, there's no need to panic. We can't draw parallels to Verroth's late sister and this monster that seemed to come from Fortuna, could we?

Lady had already left, she needed some rest after the tough mission. Humans apparently weren't made to fight fire beasts. Nero had dozed off and was peacefully sleeping on the couch.

Somehow, I was glad that Lady has given us something to take his mind off Kyrie – this mission would keep him occupied.

"Dante...", Trish hissed suddenly and I turned to her with a raised brow.

"What – "

"Is that a submission mark on Nero's neck?", she asked angrily.

Only now I noticed that his neck was bare – the towel he had carried earlier was gone and his hoodie wasn't cut high enough to cover the mark.

"Are you fucking insane?! What did the kid do to deserve this?"

"It's not permanent, is it?", I asked back, sounding a little more panicked than I wanted.

"I don't know, I never had a mate", she replied, now boring her finger into my chest. I flinched. Her nails were almost as sharp as Nero's talons – but smaller and felt like needles boring into my skin through the fabric. "Now tell me why you bit him that hard", she demanded.

"I... we... erm..." I was struggling for words. "What did Nero tell you about the year after the savior incident?"

"Well, he told both Lady and me that he slept around quite a bit", she replied, a little confused by my question. "He didn't really went into details but we got the hints."

"Did he also tell you that he was raped and tried to kill himself with an overdose of sedatives afterwards?", I asked and her eyes widened in shock.

"No."

"He relapsed yesterday", I continued, "He searched for pills in the bathroom cabinet. When I wouldn't give them to him, we fought and … things escalated and somehow... my instincts took over."

I couldn't look at him, couldn't look at what I did to him. Since we were both part-demons, there were some things that were different in our relationship, things that differed from human values. Dominance and submission for example.

In our relationship, Nero and me were on the same level – except for the bedroom. There, he was the submissive one, opening his body for me. Of course, that didn't mean that he wasn't in control – I may be the one on top but Nero always found a way of giving the orders. Occasionally, we would switch roles but it happened very seldom. The first time was during his maturing and it went so fast that neither of us could really savor the experience. The other times were similar to that since my devil half always wanted to assert its dominance.

The thing I was afraid of now was that once I awoke this instinct – forcing him to submit – would manifest itself. Our relationship was based on balance and I didn't want to destroy that.

But yesterday night... I fucked up.

Of course, we kinda made up but I still felt terrible, especially now that I could see the huge bite wound again. While a mate mark was quite subtle – just small, light imprints of my teeth –, only bled a little and closed quickly, submission marks were far deeper. The bruises around it made it look even more brutal. It was already healing but the skin was knitting itself together at a very slow pace – a mark meant as punishment to Nero for not obeying me. I felt like shit for doing this to him, it wasn't supposed to be there.

Trish was staring at the wound, too. "Dante", she started then, her voice sounding distant, almost disappointed in me. "I get your point but still..." She shook her head. "You know, things like these are –"

"– what distinguishes us from actual demons." I ended the statement. "Yeah, I know."

* * *

Some hours later, Nero and I were on the way to Asatrus. The ride was quiet, a strange tension in the air. This was new. Usually, the silence between us was comfortable and not awkward like this. I didn't know what was going on in Nero's head and it unnerved me.

"Say something", I pleaded and he sighed quietly.

"I really don't want to go there."

"Asatrus?"

"Yeah... it's too close to Fortuna."

I hummed in agreement and we fell silent again. So much for wanting to distract him from Kyrie's death.

Nero stared out of the window, his facial expression blank. Great, from that angle I could perfectly see the submission mark I forced onto him. Hell, why was everything so frustrating at the moment?

"We should investigate into Kyrie's death", Nero said suddenly and I frowned lightly. "We've already came all the way."

"The city has been burnt down. And I don't think the ferries will –"

"You're probably right", he sighed and rubbed his eyes. "It's just that I... I spent all my life protecting her. Now she's dead. I want to know what happened to her."

"We'll find out", I promised, reaching out with one hand to ruffle his hair. "We should be in the village soon."

It was silent again but some of the tension was gone. That was a start at least.

"Hey, do you see that?", Nero asked then, leaning forward.

"What?"

"This thing in the distance..."

"I don't –"

There was a thud and we drove over something solid. The car gave a shake and I slammed the brakes. The tires squeaked loudly and with a rumble we came to a halt.

"I think I just ran something over." How could something like that happen? My instincts usually kicked in much earlier.

"Yup, I think you did", Nero confirmed and we got out of the car, examining the damage. Well, the car was okay – but the thing I ran over wasn't.

"What's that?", Nero asked, staring at the half-deceased corpse in disgust.

"The remains of a deer?", I suggested, stepping closer. "It was dead before I... erm, ran it over again."

"Seems like it's been dead for weeks", Nero noticed, stepping even closer and putting a hand over his nose and mouth to avoid smelling the stench. "Look at it. Half-dead, patches of skin clinging to the bones. Sounds like those demons Lady talked about." Cautiously, he moved his hand, sniffling the air. "Smells familiar too..."

And then, before I could stop him, he sank his bringer into the mass of greenish rotten flesh, rummaging around in the visceral.

"Kid, what are you doing?", I asked, shuddering in disgust. Somehow, Nero had a higher tolerance than me for things like these. Seemed like he had toughened up over the last year. Or maybe I had been swallowed by too many demons in my life.

"I'm looking for its heart", Nero explained, digging through the demon's insides. "These things kinda smell like Verroth's creations – it's the same poison."

"So you just rummage in its innards?", I asked and looked away. "Verroth's things burnt you, remember?"

"Yeah, but this one doesn't emit that much poison", he said, still searching for its heart. He gave up after another minute, rubbing his hand clean against the grass and a nearby tree. "It's not there."

"The heart?"

"Yes, it's missing."

How strange. The corpse itself was strange, in fact. It was supposed to disappear after the demon was dead – usually, demonic corpses slowly dissolved. But we were dealing with a flesh weaver here... maybe those creations were different from usual demons?

"I don't like this", Nero said slowly, eying the corpse as if he expected that it would jump at him in the next second. "And this wasn't the thing I've seen some minutes ago."

"Huh? What did you see then?"

"I think it was golden –"

He didn't get the chance to continue – a fireball came flying out of nowhere. We dodged to the side, hiding behind one of the huge trees.

"I guess this is our target then." And our swords were still in the trunk of the car. Just great.

More fire hit the tree and loud screeches made us cover our ears. Nero summoned Yamato and I grabbed Ebony and Ivory. A quick glance in his direction and our tactic was set.

I dashed forward first, firing my guns and trying to get a closer look on our target. Nero followed, quick slashes of his sword whirling through the air.

We were face to face with a huge demonic bird. For a moment, both of us were completely perplexed as we stared at the golden demon – it looked almost graceful with its long peacock-like tail, as if flames were dancing beneath its clawed feet. It dove down with a loud shriek, opening its sharp beak, lashing out with its claws. And damn, it was _fast_.

It left no time for me to run to the car to get Rebellion. Nero and I continued our tactic – filling it with lead and occasionally slicing it with Yamato but the demon was just too fast. How had Lady been able to fight _two_ of these fire demons?!

"Any ideas?", Nero yelled from further away, hissing when the demon hit him with its flames. I rushed in his direction without even thinking about it, screaming in pain when the fire also hit me.

Nero tried to grab the enemy with his bringer and finally succeeding in catching it. He tore on the clawed foot he had managed to grab and I shot the bird multiple times. It fell down unceremoniously, Nero pouncing onto it, slicing it open with Yamato and tearing out its heart. The demon stopped struggling, letting out a gurgled squeak and we watched as the golden feathers fell out one by one as the thing started to decease. It seemed to fall apart in fast motion, broken bones sticking out of a black mass of organs.

Nero threw something onto the ground in the next minute, stomping on it afterwards.

We stared at the pile of gore, both confused. I staggered over where he was standing, hissing in pain. For some reason, Nero's wounds had closed, the blisters disappearing quickly. I had no such luck.

Nero put an arm around my waist, steadying me. "Are you okay?"

"Not really." My right side had taken a lot of damage, even if the burns were only shallow. It still hurt like hell though. And my demonic healing was working way too slow. By now, the skin should have been much more smooth, the blisters should have disappeared. What was going on with me?

"We're going home", Nero said firmly, insisting that he was driving. "I brought some of the ointment Trish used on Lady."

He helped me sit down on the back seat and peeling off my ruined coat and shirt. I clenched my eyes shut in pain. Why did the burns hurt so much? I wasn't used to be in pain like that. Usually, it would fade away more quickly.

Nero carefully applied the lotion, mindful not to hurt me or to agitate the scorched skin, his other hand brushing back my hair. He wrapped bandages around my torso then and after some minutes that felt like an eternity, the pain finally dulled, my skin getting smooth again. Nero trailed his hands over my body, making sure the bandages were wrapped tightly. "Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks, love."

He smiled at me, pulling me closer for a kiss. "Get some rest, babe", he said when we parted, softly kissing my cheek. I leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes, glad for the tiredness that lulled me to sleep and kept me from thinking about all the problems that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

* * *

I woke when the car stopped moving and Nero cut off the engine. With a loud yawn, I stretched, hissing in pain.

"Dante? Are you alright?"

"I don't think so..." Why the fuck was I in pain again? Gingerly, I touched the bandages and hissed again when I felt the blisters beneath the gauze.

"I didn't heal?", I asked no one in particular, feeling alarmed. Why did the wounds return? They didn't hurt as bad as before but the pain was still there – the wounds were still there. _Why?_

Nero jumped out of the car, approaching me with a concerned look on his face. His body showed no evidence of a fight – only his clothes were slightly torn and singed. I didn't get it. I had seen Lady's wounds and currently _felt_ the degree of damage those demons were able to deal – why did it have no effect on Nero?

"We should call Trish", he suggested, offering his hand to me. Both of us were surprised when I stumbled out of the car, Nero catching me before I could fall. What the hell was going on?! Pain spiked through my body from my right side which had taken all the damage and my breath came out in short huffs. Again, I asked myself how the hell Lady could have survived that – she was only a human and here I was, feeling like I was going to die. Well... maybe I was exaggerating but I really did feel like shit.

And Nero – who was patient like a damn saint – led me to the double doors of the office, his arm carefully draped around my waist while I still had trouble processing all that happened. How could one single demon injure me this badly? How was that possible? I fought harder battles before! Something felt terribly wrong about this.

I settled down onto the couch of the office and Nero reached out for the bandages.

"Wait", I said and he sat back, looking at me expectantly. "Call Trish first."

I highly doubted that she knew what was going on though. Nero nodded and went to the desk, dialing the number. While he was busy calling her, I carefully tried to remove the gauze, peeling off the edge of a strip.

"Ow." I sucked in a breath when I agitated the scorched skin beneath the bandages. Nope. I guess I had to wait for Nero to help me.

Trish seemed to have answered the call. "Hey Trish, Nero here. We have a problem –"

He was cut off by her. I watched as his facial expression turned into a frown. "Yes, I did but it didn't help." I couldn't hear what Trish was saying but her voice sounded high-pitched and hysterical.

Nero held the receiver away from his ear in the next moment. "Damn, calm down", he growled angrily. "Just take her to the office, we think of something then." With that, he ended the call, rubbing his temple.

"What's going on?", I asked him.

"Lady's wounds reopened, just like yours", Nero replied, "And Trish is panicking now."

"Well, Lady is only human."

"She's tough", Nero retorted, "And she fought two of those fire beasts alone. We had trouble with only one. Trish will bring her to the office and we figure something out."

He settled down next to me and I took his hand into mine. How come I hadn't realized Nero's strong sense of responsibility before? I usually didn't take any responsibility for anyone else but me – a trait that Nero had changed as soon as he stepped into my life.

Nero had grown up protecting the ones close to him, had given all his heart to ensure his sister's happiness and safety. I, on the other hand, had been sheltered by my family, had been the youngest who had grown used to everyone protecting me. I understood why thinking about his past made Nero so sad – I felt the same way, after all. I didn't like to remember my life before it took a turn in events and turned into that tragedy. But does it matter now? In life, you live in the present, not in the past.

Also, Nero seemed to have grown up a lot in the past days because of his loss. He had cried, yes but now, he was on his way to get over all those things, to move on. And there it was – our usual comfortable silence while we just looked at each other.

But it didn't last long. With a loud thud, the doors were kicked open and Trish barged in, carrying Lady bridal style who didn't seem pleased about it at all. I would've laughed if the situation wasn't that serious.

Trish let Lady slip down onto the coffee table and ran upstairs in the next second, coming back with the first aid kit. She tossed it at Nero, yelling something about clean water and was out of the door again – probably fetching more demonic potions from her car. Nero meanwhile was rummaging through the kitchen.

Lady and I looked at each other awkwardly. "So... um. Those demons got you too?", she asked, gesturing to the bandages around my upper body.

"Yeah... hey, how did you manage to kill two of these beasts? Nero and I had trouble killing one of them."

"One of Kalina Ann's rockets hit them and the explosion knocked them out", she said, "I stabbed them with the bayonet until they stopped moving." She examined her wounds. They looked the same as hours before.

"Did they diffuse?"

"The corpses? No... no, they didn't." She frowned in concentration, already opening her mouth to continue but was interrupted when Nero and Trish returned. Trish instructed him to remove the gauze from my torso while she was mixing something that looked like another potion.

"What are you doing?", I asked her and glanced over Nero's shoulder.

"We went to the library of Temen-ni-gru, remember?", she said, "I found some books about healing and thought they would come in handy. I hope it'll work..."

"What about green orbs?", I asked her and she shook her head.

"Already tried that. Had the same effect as the potion. The wounds close themselves just to reopen again later", Trish replied. "We need something that blocks that stuff from spreading..."

"_Stuff_?", Nero repeated with a raised brow, "What are we even talking about here?"

"Poison, I think", Trish said, "I don't know why it has these effects even though it wasn't injected into their bloodstreams. It seems to work like some kind of acid."

"Did you try holy water?"

Trish slapped her forehead. "Shit, why I didn't think about that..."

She seemed to be unfocused. I couldn't explain why she was reacting like this. Trish was always calm and collected, never panicked.

Nero removed the final strip of gauze from my torso and Trish gave him a small bowl with a yellowish paste.

"Dante, this will hurt", Trish said quietly and both Nero and I frowned.  
"Why?"

"There's _holy_ water in it. You're a half _devil_. Figures, doesn't it?" She tossed a pair of gloves at Nero. "Put these on, otherwise the water will hurt you too."

Nero did as he was told and began to spread the potion onto my chest and I clenched my teeth when it agitated the wounds further before _finally_, it started to cool my skin and the blisters disappeared.

"Thank fucking god", I groaned appreciatively, hearing Lady sigh as well.

"Nero, why are you uninjured?", Trish asked him, slowly returning to her usual calmness.

He shrugged lightly. "I don't know", he replied and both girls stared at him. He didn't seem to be aware of that though, now smearing the healing potion onto my ribcage.

"Those beasts hit me but my wounds healed just as usual", he continued after some minutes of silence. Trish didn't comment on that, lost in thoughts.

Shortly after, the girls left the office again and Nero and me went to bed. As soon as he stripped to his underwear though I couldn't help but stare at the huge bite mark on his neck, feeling guilty all over again. The wound seemed to scream "Dante's fault!" and it made me sad to look at it. And just like the night before, I stopped Nero in bed when he tried to take things further.

"Does it still hurt?", he asked and cautiously laid his head on my chest, listening to my heart beat.

"No, I'm fine", I replied quietly, biting my lip. I was careful with touching him and I knew that he knew that I tried to put some distance between us. I didn't want to hurt him again. But Nero was stubborn and wouldn't let me get away, always coming closer whenever I tried to inch away.

"Dante, I meant what I said yesterday", he reminded me. "I will not hold that bite against you."

The _bite_, he said. It was a _mark_, a fucking _submission mark_, not just a bite!

Tentatively, my fingers ran down his side, resting on his waist. Today, Nero showed me how much he cared about me, took care of me when I took damage. And I thanked him with losing control over myself. Things like these showed that I wasn't able to take any responsibility, that I wasn't able to keep or protect what I loved. The longer I thought about it, the more afraid I became that I could lose Nero. It didn't even take that much – he almost died once because of me when he was captured by Verroth's minions. And Nero wouldn't be first one who died because of me.

"Dante..." Nero reached out for me, cupping my face with his hand. "I'm rubbing off on you. Don't let my negative thoughts get you down." He pecked onto the lips. "A lot of shit happened the last few days. It will get better."

And even though he was depressed, he found a way to keep his head high. I didn't know how to deal with all those negative emotions myself because I had always suppressed them.

"You're right", I said quietly and he smiled softly, leaning in for another kiss. He hugged me closer to him, once again laying his head on my chest, closing his eyes.

I also closed mine. Nero was right after all – things will get better.

Or … so I hoped.

* * *

"_That's not a sword." Vergil glared at the instrument in his hand, turning to our mother. "I said I wanted a sword."_

"_You're not getting any weapons until you're twelve. End of discussion", she said firmly. Then, she frowned, seeming a little disappointed. "Don't you like it, Vergil?"_

_He shrugged, examining the string instrument. It had an elegant black lacquered finish which shone brightly in the sunlight that flooded through the windows._

"_This is not a violin, right?"_

"_It's a viola, darling", mom explained and turned to me. "Do you like your present, Dante?"_

_I grinned widely. "Yup. Thanks, mom." _

_She smiled in response and I picked the strings of the acoustic guitar my parents had given me. There was no real melody, just some notes hanging in the air as I tried to adjust to the feeling of the strings on the neck of the guitar. _

_Vergil meanwhile had gotten up and was now securing the viola underneath his chin. His fingers curled around the neck of the instrument, experimentally tapping the strings. Then, the bow glided over one of the strings, the sound silent but rich. It sounded deeper than a violin – fuller; a sound like melted dark chocolate. _

_Mom turned to him then, watching as Vergil let the bow slide over the strings before tapping them, already managing to play a little tune. Angrily, I set the guitar aside, leaving the room._

–

_Loud voices roused me from sleep. I groggily pushed the blankets aside, glancing at the alarm on my nightstand. 4 AM. _

"_You can't explain things like these to them at this age!" _

_I froze. Mom? I got up as silently as possible and sneaked into the corridor. There, I met Vergil who apparently also had woken up. We exchanged a look and inched closer to the library where the voices were coming from and the light was on._

"_I have to explain those things to them", dad retorted, "Time is running out and those are the essentials – they _have_ to know them."_

_It was silent for a while._

"_I don't know", mom said then, "Don't you think you confuse them?"_

"_Confuse them? Why would they be confused?"_

"_Because it's too soon for sex ed and telling 13-year-old adolescent boys that they're bisexual by nature... I just... I don't know how to deal with it."_

"_Well, that's the way demons work, Eva." Dad's voice was much softer and calmer now. Vergil and I exchanged a look again."Gender isn't important when it comes to mating, it's not the crucial factor."_

"_What _is_ the crucial factor then?", mom asked and sighed. "I knew this would be difficult but.." She trailed off._

"_It's not _that_ complicated." Dad chuckled quietly. "Look, love is love. It's simple as that – and you already know the differences between human and demonic mating."_

_This time, Vergil and me exchanged a frown. Now that was stuff we didn't want to know._

"_I don't know...", mom repeated, "I mean, look at our boys. Vergil doesn't seem to be interested in _anyone_. After everything you told me, it doesn't seem normal. And Dante's hyperactivity –"_

"_Eva, relax. Let them figure it out on their own. Besides, does it really matter who the boys will fall in love with in the end?"_

"_No, it doesn't." She sighed. "But still... I want grandchildren."_

_Dad laughed heartily._

_Vergil stared at me, forming words with his mouth. 'What was that about?' I shrugged in response. _

"_I know you're eavesdropping, boys." Dad's voice made us jump and the door of the library opened. I was smiling innocently while Vergil simply huffed in annoyance. _

"_Get inside." He gestured us to follow him and we flopped down onto the fancy couches that were placed there, next to our mother. She ran her fingers through my hair as soon as I sat down next to her._

"_Couldn't sleep, boys?"_

"_Kind of."_

"_I see..."_

"_Why did you and mother fight?", Vergil asked bluntly, making both of them sigh._

"_Demonic essentials", dad replied and both Vergil and I looked at him expectantly._

"_Nothing serious", mom said then, "Your father just needed to explain some things to me. Go back to sleep."_

_We left the library but didn't go to sleep. Instead, both of us were sitting on the small stone bench of the terrace that connected our rooms. Summer had just begun, the night air was warm and a little humid._

"_Dad said their time is running out", Vergil repeated slowly, "What do you think he meant by that?"_

_I shrugged, receiving a light slap on the shoulder. "Think harder then, idiot."_

"_How the hell should I know, Verge?", I asked, getting angry. I didn't like the way dad said that. 'The time is running out', huh?_

"_He wants to prepare us for something", Vergil mused quietly, staring into the distance. Some bats flew around, their wings fluttering as they passed us but neither of us was fazed by it._

"_For what?", I asked into the silence._

"_Maybe an emergency", Vergil said, "Something that both of them expect but hope not to happen."_

"_What could possibly –"_

"_I don't like that they try to keep it from us", he continued, ignoring me. _

"_Verge, you're being paranoid", I hissed, "Why would our parents hide something from us?"_

"_To protect us, maybe", he replied without hesitation, "And I am _not_ being paranoid, Dante. Opposite to you, I _think_."_

"_Hey, you –"_

"_Dad said 'time is running out'", Vergil repeated once more, neglecting me yet again. "Think about it. Well, think in general, for a change."_

_He went into his room then, leaving me alone. I sighed quietly, staring at the full moon in the distance..._

–

_Sweat trickled down my face, my breathing coming out hard and labored. Vergil stared back at me, breathing hard as well. I watched as blood trickled down from his split lip._

_I didn't know why the situation had escalated or how we went from a simple sparring match to actually hurting each other._

_Vergil snarled and charged toward me. Something in the back of my mind reminded me that this was wrong – usually, he wouldn't attack me like this. He was unfocused._

_We stared at each other. Vergil growled lowly in his throat. For some reason his eyes seemed to gleam in a brighter blue than usual... _

_I gasped when I landed on my back, Vergil on top of me. Claws – real, animal-like_ claws_ – ran down my chest, tearing my shirt and leaving deep scratches on my skin. _

_I arched my back, feeling how the sharp appendages dug even deeper into my body. A sick thrill went down my spine at the pain, at the feeling of the razor-like fingers tearing my skin and the blood that seeped out of the wounds. _

_A moment later his weight was gone and I sat up. What the hell did just happen? Slowly, I ran my hand over my chest, flinching when I felt the warm wetness there._

"_Vergil?"_

_He stared at his hands, looking absolutely horrified for a moment. When he faced me again, he was calm as usual though. _

"_We're not going to tell mom and dad about this. Understood?" His voice was cold but I barely noticed what he was saying, slowly getting up and carefully examining the wounds. They were already knitting themselves together – the blood remained there though._

"_Do it again." What?_

_Vergil stared at me, eyes widening. None of us remembered why exactly we started to fight. Both of us had just gotten a taste of our demonic descent, experienced what exactly it felt like to be... different._

"_We're not going to tell mom and dad about this", Vergil repeated slowly, his voice sounding threatening. "I swear, Dante if you tell them –"_

_I stared at the crimson liquid that tainted my fingers, absentmindedly replying:"Yeah, got it."_

* * *

Whatever it was that was keeping me from getting my sleep made me fucking furious. It was a normal reaction when you're used to get at least ten hours of sleep a day, wasn't it?

Tiredly, I rubbed my eyes and threw the thin blanket off me. It was the middle of June and our bedroom was hot as hell. Opposite to me, Nero was still sleeping peacefully – well, he was used to weather like this, growing up on a tropical island.

I got up and made my way to the bathroom, splashing water into my face. The cool liquid helped me to calm down, even though I was asking myself why I even was that agitated.

I stared into the bathroom mirror. There were dark circles under my eyes but the rest looked normal. No traces of the burns were left. But still... This was the third day in a row that I wasn't able to sleep. Maybe it was because I still felt guilty for biting Nero... Or maybe because I couldn't take seeing him that depressed yet again for the same reasons. Or because the horrible mission we went on today. Or because of the flashbacks I kept on having. Hell, where do all those problems come from suddenly?

"Time is running out, brother."

I froze. _The hell … ?_

Again, I looked into the mirror and couldn't believe my eyes. I grabbed the sink, the porcelain cracking beneath my fingers as I stared at my mirror image in horror.

No, not _my_ reflection... This wasn't me. My eyes were completely red, my skin gray and ashen, protruding veins running down from my forehead to my chin. I watched as the slightly blueish lips parted again to speak – this wasn't me, this was someone else.

"I told you they kept something from us."

I was still staring at the mirror in disbelief. It couldn't be, it was impossible... "V-Vergil?"

* * *

_A/N: DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUN_


	7. Sorry

Given To Destroyers

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.

**Warnings in general:** Bad language, violence, lots of blood, and yaoi.

**Warnings for this chapter:** language, gore, horror.

**A/N:** I made a cover. You can see the full res version here on my tumblr: elusi v e- il lusi ons. tumb lr. com (slash) post (slash) 49458400351 and thanks to ffn for making it even harder to post links yay -_-  
Also, I'm very slow at replying to messages right now and I'm sorry for that. I really appreciate every single review I get and I'm always happy about feedback :3

* * *

Chapter 5 – Sorry

The mirror shattered but I barely noticed the blood running down my broken knuckles. My heart was pounding like crazy, my breathing hard and labored. I'm having hallucinations. I'm losing my mind, I'm going fucking insane!

One piece of glass clattered as it fell into the sink. I stared into the remains of the mirror, quickly tearing my gaze away.

_Okay, calm down. You are tired and you've been on edge the last few days – everything will be alright. _

"Dante, what happened?" Nero looked absolutely bewildered as he entered the bathroom.

I pressed my lips together. _Tch, calm down. Easier said than done. _"It's nothing, go back to –"

"I'm going nowhere. Why did you break the mirror?" He glared at me angrily, crossing his arms over his chest.

I sighed, taking a shaky breath. "I just saw... I... think I'm going insane or something."

He raised a brow, waiting for me to continue.

"I saw Vergil in the mirror."

"Your brother?"

"My _dead_ brother." Dead, gone because _I_ killed him. Because I _had to_ kill him. "He talked to me."

"What did he say?", Nero asked, his arms slowly becoming unlocked. He came a little closer, not sure what to do. At least he didn't question what I've seen, didn't think I was crazy.

"He repeated what he said to me shortly before our father went back into the Underworld and died", I replied and took a deep breath. _Nero, I'm afraid. I don't understand why I'm not able to sleep. I'm having nightmares and flashbacks..._

But I never said it out loud. And once again, I stared at the submission mark on Nero's neck.

Nero grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes instead of the wound.

"Let's go back to bed", he whispered, kissing me gently. He wrapped his arms around my middle, pulling me close. I shook my head.

"Dante –"

I don't want to see all those things again and again – my past, my family, my life before it went downhill. And I was sure I would inevitably see them as soon as I closed my eyes.

I pried his arms off, ruffling his hair with my hand. "Go back to bed, love. I don't think I can sleep tonight."

Nero protested, once more pulling me in, his hand gliding over my back. I knew that to him intimacy was one of the most important parts of our relationship. The problem about this was that Nero tries solving problems with sex. Since the year we spent apart – the year he spent sleeping around, drinking and almost getting himself killed – he sees sex as solution or as a way to repress his feelings.

He needed to feel loved and wanted – and I knew that and was always happy to give him what he needed. But now I was insecure about everything and had no clue what to make of our fucked-up situation. Nero needed affection, even more so after his sister's death and here I was, being a complete jerk and depriving him of it because I didn't want to put him in danger.

Hell, times like these I wished I'd never fallen in love in the first place. Feelings make life so much more difficult.

I squeezed Nero in my arms, kissing the top of his head before letting him go. "Go to bed, I'll be there in a minute."

He sighed, pulling away. "Alright..."

I stayed in the bathroom for another minute, washing the blood off my hands and throwing away the glass shards of the mirror. Seeing Vergil again felt like a slap to the face. A reminder that I had to destroy my own family. And his transformation into Nelo Angelo … I still had no clue why or how he had turned into him. Well, I actually didn't want to know. I simply wanted the past to rest, I didn't want to be reminded of it all the time. Dealing with things like these was complicated and incredibly painful so I simply bottled everything up and never dealt with it.

But looking into mirrors always reminded me of Vergil because I always saw his reflection as well whenever I looked into one. And Trish looks just like my mother. I'm constantly reminded of my family tragedy – every single day.

I rubbed my face, ignoring the mirror. There were more important things to deal with now – the firebeasts we encountered today, for example.

Neither of us were able to sleep this night, the safety distance I was putting between us not helping either.

We were silent for a while before Nero spoke up. "It must've been hard to kill him." He swallowed. "Even worse than … than what happened to Kyrie."

I thought about it for a while. "Vergil wasn't himself anymore", I said then, "He's been dead for a while. When I met him on Mallet Island he was Mundus's puppet. No soul left."

"But –"  
"Can we not talk about it?", I interrupted him, "Nero, some things can't be changed. And I don't like thinking about it."

"Yeah sure..." Suddenly, his voice was small and a little shaky. _Good going, old man._ I'm such an idiot.

I bit my lip, turning around and away from Nero. This was getting worse from day to day and the fact that I didn't know what to do made it even more worse.

"Dante", he said into the silence. "Please … I don't want you to be distant."

No matter how pissed I was at myself, I had to overcome it quickly. Nero was blaming himself again – thinking that somehow he was responsible for all of the shit we came across in the last few days. But he wasn't. This wasn't about putting the blame on anyone of us.

I tentatively reached out for him and he instantly snuggled up to me, placing a kiss on my collarbone. "I think I woke an instinct when I bit you", I said reluctantly and Nero shifted so that he could look into my eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"I forced you to submit to me", I explained. "Even though I promised to never force anything onto you."

"Will you stop that now?", he asked angrily, "I'm getting tired of repeating myself, Dante. I don't even recognize you anymore. Stop agonizing about this."

His hand cupped my cheek and he placed a short but firm kiss onto my lips. "I'm depressed enough for both of us. And I can imagine what you're going through at the moment." He kissed me again. "Get some sleep. We have a job tomorrow and we're going back to Asatrus with Trish."

I tensed at that. I didn't feel comfortable with Nero being so close to Fortuna once again. It could make memories resurface. Memories about Kyrie and a life he left behind one year ago.

"What job?", I asked.

"More of those fire demons", he replied, yawning loudly. "And Lady pointed out how strange it was that nobody in Fortuna and Asatrus died."

"_Nobody_?" How was that even possible?

"It's strange, isn't it? The guy Lady met in Fortuna called her, asking her for help when the wounds of the townspeople reopened. They suffered from the burns but it wasn't live-threatening."

That's weird. How come those demons managed to hurt me so badly but didn't really hurt humans? And Nero took no damage...

"Old man... sleep."

I kissed the top of his head. "Whatever you say, kid."

* * *

Trish was currently packing the first-aid kit, stocking it up with holy water. I watched her as she put the little flasks into her case, her brow furrowed as she counted them, checking if all of them were corked tightly. She also seemed to be a little fidgety, losing count twice and starting over again.

Nero meanwhile was busy loading Nevan and Cerberus into the trunk, scratching his nose when Nevan lit up in his hand. He climbed into the car in the next minute, Trish getting in as well a minute later and we drove off into the direction of Fortuna.

"Where's Lady?", I asked her curiously.

"At home, I guess", Trish replied a little hesitantly.

"Did something happen?", Nero queried, raising a brow and turning around in his seat to face her.

"No", she replied automatically and a little too fast, making both of us suspicious. What was going on with her lately?

"You sure?", Nero continued asking, twisting around in his seat to get a better look at her.

Trish nodded and waved him off. "Everything's fine, Nero. You worry too much."

With one last questioning look, he sat back again, staring out of the window. Something was going on with Trish and Lady but I didn't know what it could be. Nero on the other hand seemed to have an idea... I decided to focus on the road. We had an accident yesterday and didn't need another one today.

* * *

Some hours later, we arrived at a village that laid in ruins. As soon as Nero got out of the car, he frowned at the people standing there. All of them stared at him, apparently recognizing him. The majority of the townspeople had burn wounds, though none of them were as deep as my own yesterday.

All of them glared evilly at Nero, whispering things under their breath. It sounded like a swarm of angry bees. No wonder Nero had always hated Fortuna.

"That's what you get when coming to help people", I said. "Instead of being thankful because you saved them, they chase you out of town."

"It doesn't matter anymore." Nero shrugged. "Trish, can you treat their wounds? Dante and I track down and kill the demons."

She nodded and went to work while we followed the path of destruction the fire beasts had left here.

And suddenly, it was there again – this damned unnatural silence that seemed to follow us the last few days, hanging over us like a dark cloud of doom.

Nero was biting his lip, his left hand clutching Cerberus tightly. He picked out the weapon, saying the icy devil arm would be an advantage over the fire beasts.

"Somehow, I forgot the way they used to look at me", he whispered quietly, referring to the townspeople. "As if I were a freak."

Slowly but surely, I was getting tired of this discussion. Yes, I constantly assured him that there was no reason for him to feel like this and both of us knew it. Yes, he's had a rough past. And yes, he also needed my support right now.

Nevertheless, we've went through this topic so many times that I've lost count of it and even though I usually was very patient with Nero – given our current situation, it was enough. "Nero –"

"Yeah, I know. Sorry."

Seems like the irritation in my voice was more than clear. Even the most simple things now turn complicated …

We went quiet again for some minutes. The trail of ashes lead us through streets with destroyed houses to the edge of the small town and continued through the woods. There, a lot of trees had fallen, many plants had died in the flames. The leaves of the remaining plants were coated with a thin layer of ashes, making the whole forest look dull and grayish instead of green.

We kept on walking until we reached the beach. There, in the distance, the island of Fortuna could be seen.

"It's just that I can't forget about it", Nero mumbled, "About Fortuna. Or Kyrie. I grew up –" he pointed at the island – "and spend my whole life there. And I'm just... I don't know. I'm overwhelmed by all the memories, all the emotions... It's just too much at once."

I reached out for him but was interrupted by an ear-piercing shriek. Behind us, a fire demon emerged. It looked similar to a dog, only that it was twice as big – maybe some kind of hellhound. Flames danced at his feet and his jaw was filled with long, saber-like teeth, and there were sharp, slightly curved claws on its paws.

With a snarl, it flew forward. I rolled to the side, pulling out Nevan and quickly playing a riff. Several bats were summoned and shot at the hound. Just as the firebird we encountered yesterday, it was fast as hell and dodged the attacks effortlessly.

Nero came down onto him, spinning around Cerberus but missed. The beast meanwhile charged at me and I waited for it to strike, swinging the guitar up when it was close enough, slashing it horizontally. Blood splashed – the liquid strangely thick and black – and the demon roared in pain. I felt a cold whiff and suddenly Nero was there, hitting the demon multiple times.

I rolled out of the way, letting him do the work. Nero seemed to be on the edge of triggering – his eyes gleamed red and there were blue sparks dancing around him. But he kept on pushing his trigger back … There was no reason for doing that, triggering would only enhance his powers and healing abilities so why was he holding it back?

His bringer plunged into the demon's body and Nero pulled out its heart, throwing it onto the ground and stomping on it afterwards. But then, he collapsed onto the ground, clutching his side, his face contorted in pain.

I quickly ran up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Nero leaned onto me, breathing heavily.

"It stabbed me with its claws", he wheezed out.

There were deep scratches on his ribcage, blood oozing out of the wounds and staining his clothes. Nero put his hand over the wound, his breathing erratic and short.

"I think it might've punctured your lungs", I said quietly, helping him to walk. "Trigger. I don't want you to bleed out before we get back to Trish."

He breathed in shakily. "N-no."

Did he just say '_no_'?

"Nero, _trigger_."

"I can't!", he yelled, wincing in pain afterwards.

"What do you mean you _can't_?" Now that I actually thought about it... I haven't seen Nero trigger in a while. For about half a year, in fact...

"I j-just can't!", he shouted, his face scrunching up in pain once more. "Please Dante, just... help me."

I scooped him up into my arms. This wasn't the time to fight. "Put some pressure on the wound."

He did as he was told, his eyelids drooping. I stroked his cheek. "Stay awake, kid."

Nero opened his eyes again, managing to glare at me even in a situation like this. "I feel like shit."

"You need to be more careful", I said, "Or you need to trigger. Right now."

He went silent, avoiding to look at me. This was bad. Why didn't I notice it before? I usually tried to keep an eye on Nero while fighting, tried to prevent situations like these. But I never noticed that he doesn't trigger anymore. Was it because he was still trying to get used to his bringer and his demonic descent? No, he had already accepted his nature and himself... right?

We arrived at the village some minutes later. Nero's wounds seemed to start healing – and that much faster than they would usually. As if on cue, Trish met us halfway. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw Nero who was stained with both his and the demon's thick black blood.

"What happened?"

"Got stabbed by a hellhound", he replied and I set him onto his feet, helping him to get his bloodstained and torn hoodie and shirt off. The blood was already clotting and the cuts knitting themselves together.

Trish stared at the wounds for a second, frowning lightly as she observed them before pulling out a pair of latex gloves. Then, she used holy water to clean the cuts.

Nero sucked in a breath, screwing his eyes shut. "Aaah fuck, that hurts... What about the humans here?"

"I gave them the holy water and showed them how to treat the burns", Trish said, "They'll be alright."

Nero's wounds closed one by one, leaving smooth satin skin behind. I noticed the townspeople glaring at him, especially at his bringer, pulling off my coat and giving it to him to shield him from their stares. It seemed to be two sizes two big for him though.

Nero sniggered quietly while he pulled the arms back so that he would be able to use his hands. The coat was too wide on his shoulders as well. "Thanks babe", he said, pecking me on the lips. And for the second time today, the townspeople started whispering in the background.

"A demon and also gay."

"Nero Angelo's going to hell."

Nero's shoulders slumped down and he stared at the ground, seeming ashamed.

"Don't listen to them", I said, gripping his face and forcing him to look at me. "They have no clue what they're talking about. Let's go home, okay?"

He nodded weakly and I kissed him again, giving the people that started whispering again the mental finger.

* * *

Some hours later, we were back at the office.

Trish had announced that she finally collected all the items she needed to summon a witch Nero met half a year ago in Verroth's castle. Nero explained to me that said witch – Sayume – helped him finding his way to me and that he had promised her to get her out of that place.

By now, we were setting everything up in the office to start the summoning.

Trish had drawn something onto the floor with white chalk. It was a pentacle – a five-pointed upwards star with a circle surrounding it. She was currently adding some symbols to it as final touch.

Meanwhile, I was crushing something in a mortar that looked like bones, having been instructed me to grind them until they were a fine powder.

Trish finished the drawing, patting off the chalk dust from her hands. "Okay, we're almost done preparing. It's a simple spell but I had to get those damn flowers from my ever elusive client." She pulled out a small bouquet of half dried flowers. They were crimson and seemed to have sharp petals, almost looking like they were made out of paper.

"Desideria?", Nero asked and Trish raised a brow.

"Exactly", she said with a small grin, "How'd you know?"

"They were in that shelter where I met Sayume. Those flowers helped me to find Dante when I was at Verroth's castle..."

"I see...", Trish said slowly, taking a step back to observe the drawing. "So far so good. All we need now is the summoning spell."

It was a quick procedure. A _very_ quick procedure, in fact … I frowned lightly. "I thought the preparations took you months?", I asked Trish who shrugged in response.

"It's a simple _spell_. Getting all the occult items was the main problem." She sounded strangely tired and refused to look at me.

"Trish... where did you even get those items?"

She still didn't look at me. "You wouldn't like the answer."

That alarmed me. I firmly grasped her shoulders, putting a hand under her chin, forcing her to look at me. "What's with you? You've been acting weirdly for the last couple days. What's going on?"

"Let it be, Dante. Please."

I shut up then. She would tell me eventually. Or at least so I hoped. "Alright. Can we start then?"

She nodded and fetched a book. It looked extremely old, most likely one of the books the girls found in the library of Temen-ni-gru. Its yellowed pages were slightly crumpled, the ink faded and hard to read.

Trish placed the dried flowers onto the pentagram before scattering the bone dust over the whole pattern. Then, she instructed Nero to switch out the lights and lit up the candles she had placed in each tip of the star.

Nero and I sat down on the couch then, watching Trish carrying out the ceremony. She mumbled the words for the summoning and Nero nudged my side, whispering: "What's she saying?"

I gestured to him to keep quiet, intensely listening to the last line.

Trish ended the spell by snapping the book shut. Simultaneously, the candles went off, a silent _shhh_ and a wisp of air sweeping through the office.

We were quiet for a full minute, waiting for something to happen. When nothing happened after another minute, Trish opened the book again, turning to the windows and trying to read it in the moonlight. "I don't understand, I thought I –"

_BOOM._

Nero and I flinched and Trish yelled in surprise at the sudden sound. The candles flickered and burned again. In the middle of the pentagram, a young girl had appeared. She was a little disheveled but other than that she looked fine – she was quite petite, looking a little younger than Nero, maybe about seventeen or eighteen, with pale skin and ghostly white hair. It wasn't the same shade as mine or Nero's hair – it was a pearly white with a faint golden undertone.

He got up from the couch, gently picking her up and brushing her long hair out of her face. She instinctively snuggled closer to his chest.

Why did that scene look so familiar to me …? It reminded me of when Nero carried Kyrie after the savior incident – oh.

Sayume opened her eyes, looking scared. No, not scared – terrified. She tried to fight Nero off in the first few seconds before recognizing him.

"Nero!", she shouted, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing loudly. "You kept your promise, thank you so much..."

She cried on his shoulder for a while and Trish and I used the time to clean the office. Nero meanwhile gently petted her head, waiting for her to calm down.

"What happened to your skin and hair?", he asked quietly and she froze.

"What... why?", she shrieked, suddenly seeming to freak out.

Nero continued to comb through her hair, trying to calm her down. "You look kinda pale, that's all. I remember you being slightly tanned and having light brown hair but it's –"

She pushed him away, staring at her reflection in the window and choking back a scream. "It's white! What in the name of Lucifer happened to me?!"

She touched her face and the huge wooden plates that were embedded in her ear lobes, carefully stroking the pale skin her neck, all the while staring at her reflection as if she didn't recognize herself.

"Sayume, why don't you get cleaned up?", I offered and she flinched, turning around to face me.

"And you are...?"

"Dante."

"Yes, sure..."

Nero led Sayume upstairs after saying goodbye to Trish.

"Try to be a little sympathetic this time, Dante", she said and straddled her bike. "Sayume never lived in the human world. She doesn't know anything about technology."

"Yeah, alright", I said, touching her hand before she could drive away. "Trish... what's bugging you? Don't think I didn't notice."

She bit her lip. "Bad things happened. I fucked up, I... I think I need some time alone." She pushed my hand away, speeding off like a madman.

I watched her drive away, knowing she was about to leave the town for some days. What was going on with her? Usually, Trish was so composed. It unnerved me to see her like this... Why wouldn't she tell me what happened?

I walked back inside with a sinking feeling in my stomach, hearing Nero and Sayume talk on the first story. "What's that?", Sayume asked in a mix of curiosity and a little fear.

"A sink", Nero explained patiently and I heard the water run. "See? The water comes out of there. You can turn it on and off here."

There was a silent clatter sound – as if someone was tapping their nails against something. "What's that made of?"

"Porcelain, I guess..."

"Fascinating..." It was like explaining the world to a child. Sayume was clearly overwhelmed by her new surroundings, trying to process the information she was now being flooded with.

Nero continued to explain to her how the things in the bathroom worked. "I'll leave you alone now, okay? Here's a towel and some clothes to wear. Just come downstairs when you're done, Dante and I will order some food."

He came downstairs after that, rubbing his temple. "Vera promised to bring along the tape tomorrow, maybe then we can make some progress about those firebeasts."

"Hopefully." I sighed. Damn, when did things get so complicated?

* * *

Veronica was delighted to meet Sayume. She came along the next day after sunset, bringing some clothes for the witch and set it as her goal to help her adapt to the human world. Sayume didn't seem that excited about it though. Some hours with Veronica around and she had been turned into another person: her long, almost sickly white hair has been braided into thick dreadlocks, the wooden plates in her ears and the studs in her nostrils replaced by white plastic, her outfit now consisting of a pair of washed-out and tight fitted jeans and a gray hoodie.

As thankful as she was for having been saved, she couldn't hide that she felt miserable here. Considering her past and what she's been through it made sense that she wasn't happy.

Veronica meanwhile regarded her handiwork – she called it "modernizing" Sayume so that she'd fit better into the human world. She seemed quite contented with how her newest piece of art turned out.

Sayume in turn called Vera crazy multiple times, telling her she felt alienated from herself. _Maybe_ they would warm up to each other in time? … who am I kidding?

Nero was fighting with the jukebox, trying to get the old thing to work so that we could listen to the tape Veronica brought with her. Lady was there as well, sitting next to Veronica who nervously shifted every time Nevan, who was placed onto her stand next to the couch, lit up. Lady, who's never seen a witch in her life, was meanwhile still eying Sayume suspiciously.

A loud thump made me startle in the next second. Nero had hit the jukebox with his bringer. "Damn thing stops working when we need it the most, fucking typical!" He rubbed his face tiredly, sighing a little.

"It's okay, kid", I said, walking over to him and laying a hand on his shoulder. "We'll get it to work."

Maybe I didn't only mean the jukebox and Nero seemed to understand, smiling a little before sighing again. "Any other way we could listen to it?"

"Are you sure you did everything in your power to get it to play?", Veronica asked, standing next to us and swiftly kicking the machine. As if on cue, it finally turned on and started playing.

Nero's jaw dropped. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Veronica laughed and wriggled her eyebrows, choosing not to comment on it.

We listened to the song then. The words felt strangely familiar... the voice too, now that I thought about it...

"_Evanescet lux,  
__Ardebunt astri,  
__In favillis mundus iste occidet.  
__Sol ultimus elevabit,  
__Inflammabit omnis,  
__Luna cedidiebit infra eius vim.  
__Hostes omnes extinguebintur,  
__Depugnabit aureum saeculum.  
__Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna  
__Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna..."_

The song ended and all of us stayed silent for one whole minute. I broke the silence first: "It is the same spell we discovered months ago."

"This is no spell." Sayume said calmly. Everyone stared at her. "This is an ancient tale... yes okay, someone turned it into a spell but originally, it's a tale. A tale about my clan, no less."

"Your clan?", Nero inquired with a raised brow.

Sayume nodded. "Our history can be traced back several centuries. Back in the old days, our people used to be fierce fighters. Children of the Sun. Firebirds."

I knew that story. It was one of the bedtime stories dad would tell me and Vergil when we were little.

Sayume took a deep breath. "It is said that the king of our clan conquered many lands, the old city prosperous, the people happy and contented. His wife and children were healthy and his eldest daughter ready to claim the throne … Ready to be married as well. But there was a problem – the mate she had chosen proved to be a fatal decision."

She rubbed her eyes. "And at this point, everyone usually continues the story in their own way. What we know is that the king of the firebirds made a lot of enemies by conquering and one of them proved to be the self-proclaimed lord of the Underworld."

"Mundus...", I whispered into the room.

"Yes, Mundus", Sayume confirmed. "His troops erased the firebirds from the map of the Underworld. Only a small number remained, my ancestors being one of them. But back to the topic – legend says Mundus attacked the clan because Yulija, our princess, fell in love with one of his higher commanders. Their love was strictly forbidden, never had a chance. So he brutally forced them apart and killed her."

"What happened to that commander?", Lady asked.

"I don't know", Sayume said with a shrug. "But there are songs about their undying love for each other, none of it saying anything precise about her lover."

"Are there any more verses?", I asked and Sayume nodded.

"All of it basically describes what I've just told you and it's pretty vague. But Dante... isn't it unusual for spells to be recited as songs?"

"It is... damn, all of this is strange. The monsters, the attacks, this spell. I never encountered things like these before."

"Maybe because they're not from this world?", Nero mumbled quietly, "Think about The Void again."

"Nero, I don't think this will lead to –"

"Hey wait", I interrupted Sayume, staring at Nero. "'Somewhere in between' … You went there, didn't you? When you were in Verroth's castle?" I felt like slapping myself. That's what he wanted to tell me that night and I didn't listen to him.

"Well yeah...", Nero said quietly.

The girls watched us attentively, none of them saying a word.

"But that's not the only thing that happened there." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, I guess you will find out anyway so I might as well say it right now."

Nero took a deep, shaking breath. "Dante, we went out on the very first night I moved in with you. Vera, that was the night we first met at the Phoenix, maybe you remember."

"Yes, I do", she said, "There was a demon attack that night."

Nero scratched his nose. "Exactly. Anyway, Dante and I quickly killed the demon. But when I ripped out its heart... something happened." He fidgeted on the couch. "Its heart dissolved, leaving a small black pearl behind –" My stomach churned at that. Pearls...? That wasn't a good sign. "– which my bringer absorbed."

Nero took another deep breath. "And... and when Verroth tortured me... I'm not sure what exactly he did to me but ever since then I couldn't trigger. It hurts. It hurts as if I'm gonna die, as if the poison he injected is still running through my veins. I think it's connected to that pearl."

"It might be true, Nero", I said quietly, "Verroth used those in his breeding station and as power source for the hell gates he forged."

A magical pearl. The last time I had found a pearl, my family had been killed... And then, there were those pearls I had found at Verroth's castle. But there was no need to panic – I destroyed his breeding station so they were no more of them... right?

"We have to get it out", Sayume said, "If it blocks your powers, it has to be removed."

Nero bit his lip. "Fine but how?"

She looked at Nero's bringer for a moment. "I'll cut it out of your demonic arm." She decided and I felt a weight settle in my stomach. That didn't sound good at all.

"Nothing gets through Nero's bringer", Lady remarked quietly.

Sayume pressed her lips together, seeming to feel uncomfortable for a second. "Nothing but Verroth's poison or pure holy water."

Nero paled. I wrapped my arm around his middle, giving his waist a squeeze. He calmed down a little but his breathing turned a little faster. Maybe he was having flashbacks of that night where Verroth –

"I'm not sure if this a good idea", I said and Sayume's gaze darkened.

"It's an unknown source of magic. It has to get out of there." She pointed at Nero's arm. "And you need to steady him when I'm cutting through."

"But –"

"Trust me, it's for the best."

I huffed angrily. "Fine, fine, you're the expert here but you better do a good job." My devil side growled lowly, emphasizing the warning.

"I need some tools."

"There are some in the bathroom cabinet", Lady piped up, "Trish keeps them there together with the holy water. For … emergencies." The way she said the last word sounded a little strange to my ears – distant, slightly aggravated. Hell knows what's gotten into her and Trish …

Sayume and Lady went upstairs to get the supplies. Veronica stayed downstairs with me and Nero, flinching when Nevan lit up once again. I raised a brow at that. It was unusual for Nevan to act like this … Veronica leaped up when Nevan did it again, following the other girls.

Nero turned to me then, still looking unhealthily pale.

"You sure you want to do that, kid?", I asked him and he nodded.

"It hurt when the pearl was absorbed. My bringer never hurts when it absorbs things...", he mumbled. "Besides –" he turned around and buried his face in my chest, "it blocks my trigger. I... I could have died yesterday when that demon hit me or if –"

I tightened my grip around him, feeling my heart clench in my chest. "Stop saying things like these. Everything will be alright, okay?"

I desperately wanted to believe that myself but I've never had it easy in life. Nero cupped my face with his hands in the next second, pulling me down to kiss me, hard and almost desperate.

We parted a moment later, Nero still looking a little scared. "It's going to be okay, love", I told him, gently stroking his face and ruffling his hair. "Sayume knows what she's doing and she would never hurt you on purpose. She's just trying to help." _And if she doesn't I make sure to kick her ass. _

He managed a small smile, his face a little flushed from the intense kiss. I grabbed his bringer, interlacing our fingers.

"Okay Nero, you ready?", Sayume asked him as the girls came back. She had brought Trish's first aid kit with her, setting it onto the coffee table and pulling out a scalpel and holy water.

He nodded, sitting down next to her and holding his arm out.

"Dante, hold him from behind, and Veronica from the front", Sayume instructed and I did as told.

Nero swallowed hard. "Why exactly –"

"Maybe some... instincts will kick in as soon as I cut through your skin", she explained, "We need to restrain you in that case."

He slowly inhaled, shakily exhaling through his nose. "Okay. Do it."

Sayume dipped the scalpel into the small bottle of holy water, gripping Nero's arm tightly and snaking her way through the scales to the light blue skin. Nero jerked under me, obviously a little uncomfortable.

"How are you holding up, kid?", I asked him and he grunted quietly, hissing in a breath through gritted teeth.

Sayume meanwhile seemed to feel around for something and after some more moments, she found it. Nero suddenly screamed in pain, trying to claw his way out of mine and Veronica's grip. It was a scream of pure agony but I held him tighter nonetheless when he threw himself against me.

"I hit it!", Sayume yelled, "Hold him still!"

"I'm trying to!", I said angrily over his screams. It was torture to hear it, to know that I could do nothing to help him. The rational side of my brain knew it was for the better to remove the pearl – but my devil side wanted to jump Sayume and claw her face off for doing this to Nero.

"Almost there –"

Nero's screams turned into cries and pleas now, screaming to make it stop.

"Hurry up!", I urged her and she jammed the small knife in deeper, a strange sound – something like a crunch – coming from the spot before she abruptly pulled the scalpel out.

Nero instantly went slack in my arms and Veronica gently let go of his front, brushing his hair out of his eyes. I pulled him into my lap, kissing his forehead.

Nero's eyes were closed, he seemed to have passed out either from the pain or shock. Veronica sat down next to me, seeming even paler than usual, if that was possible for vampires.

"Oh no …"

My gaze snapped to Sayume who looked at the scalpel in disappointment and anger. There was a small item speared at the tip of the blade. "I … I broke it. The pearl – half of it is still inside him." She actually looked close to tears, shaking badly.

"What exactly does that mean?", I asked tensely.

"Ingrowth. The other half is already connected to his body …" Yeah sure. As if things couldn't get even more worse from here. "I thought I've cut out all of it but I couldn't break through … whatever it was that suddenly caused him so much pain. It's connected to his system already."

"Any other way we could get it out?"

"I honestly don't know, Dante. It is not demonic, neither angelic."

"What the hell is it then?", I asked, slowly but surely getting agitated. This was ridiculous. I needed to know how to get that thing out of Nero before it could kill him – and the sooner the better.

Sayume shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry, I don't know." She was shaking even harder now. "I hope I didn't make it worse … I just wanted to help."

"It's alright, you did what you could." Veronica lightly patted Sayume's shoulder, giving her an assuring smile.

Nero stirred in my arms, scrunching up his nose. I smiled at the familiar gesture, carefully caressing his cheek. He opened his eyes then, staring at me a little anxiously.

"How are you feeling, love?", I asked him and he moved to get up but I pushed him down again. "Shh, stay like this for a bit. How are you?"

"I'm fine, I think", he said, clutching his head with his human hand. He turned to Sayume then. "Did you get the pearl out?"

She shook her head, tears glazing in her eyes. "Nero, I'm so sorry, I think I made it worse."

He disentangled himself from me, pulling Sayume into a hug. I observed them both as she explained to him what she had done, feeling strangely cold and rejected by him.

Nero shrugged Sayume's explanation off. "Maybe we should focus on those fire demons before we decide what we're going to do about the pearl. They're more important now anyway."

* * *

I couldn't sleep this night either. Too many thoughts were running around in my head, too many worries keeping me awake.

I climbed onto the roof of the office, something that I've done more often when I had been younger, shortly after having bought this place. Seeing the city lights of Capulet had a strangely calming effect on me. Light meant life, that the world was still spinning and that there were more lonely souls somewhere out there.

But someone already occupied my usual spot. Sayume turned around when she heard my footsteps, making room for me to sit next to her.

"Can't sleep as well?", I asked her and she nodded.

"It's too loud."

I gave her an inquiring look.

"There are too many sounds here – cars, people, music. Almost enough to cover the screams."

She wasn't really making sense to me and I was getting a little worried. "Screams?"

"Mother Nature's screams", she replied, staring into the distance. "She's somewhere beneath all that … gray, stone-like material humans buried her under."

Was she talking about concrete?

She frowned as she looked at the street. "Everything is gray here. The ground, the buildings, the plants. Even the sky. There isn't one single star up there."

"They're hidden behind the clouds", I said.

She scoffed bitterly and we both stared into the sky for some minutes before she spoke up again. "What do you think Hell looks like?"

I thought about it for a moment. That was actually a good question – and given that I was actually a half-devil whose home technically was Hell it made the answer more complicated.

"A place of endless pain I guess", I said, "A place where your fears eat you alive."

"Someone's Hell might be another person's home. In this case the human realm is my hell", she whispered, sobbing quietly.

I put my arm around her and she sobbed even harder. "Dante, I'm so sorry for what I did to Nero today", she continued, "And even more so because I don't know what will happen from here."

I tensed. "What _could_ happen to him?" I honestly was afraid of the answer, images flickering before my eyes. It was similar to what I felt when Nero had been captured by Verroth – suffocating fear that I couldn't help him in any way, that I had to watch another person die because of me.

She swallowed hard. "I'm not sure what that pearl was made of. It is not of purely demonic origin, there's something alien in it, something that makes my skin crawl."

My stomach started churning. It was getting worse and worse from second to second.

"Let's say it's magic – dark magic. It's fused with Nero now – and in the worst case it could slowly bleed him dry from the inside until –" Her voice broke.

This felt like a stab to the gut. She can't be serious. "What can we do to get that thing out of him?" I was surprised how calm my voice was. Maybe because my insides just have turned to ice.

"Find out where Verroth got the pearl from in the first place. Nero absorbed it form one of his creations." She wiped away her tears. "I'm sure that it wasn't his invention though. He always was more of a commander than an alchemist and none of his experiments ever succeeded."

"And then?"

"Destroy it? Get the whole pearl out of him? I wish I knew what to do, Dante."

We fell silent for a while and I came to the conclusion that I was damned. Death seemed to follow me everywhere, always attacking people close to me, people I love. Why does this keep on happening?

I sighed. Brooding over it won't change a thing. "You don't happen to know how to remove submission marks, do you?", I asked into the silence, not really expecting an answer.

"Mating creates a bond between the mates", Sayume said, "Imagine it like a red string that ties you together. It can become tangled up, there can be knots in it but it never separates. Unless – one of the mates dies."

"What happens to the survivor?"

She thought about it for a moment. "It depends", she mumbled. "The deeper the bond, the more difficult it becomes to cope with the other's death. If they shared a long life together as mates, the survivor will most likely go insane without the other, can't bear to stay alive without their other half. But connections like these are rare and explaining things like the bond between mates is hard."

She twisted one of her dreadlocks around her finger. "Nero asked me about the mark as well. He wanted to know why you reacted like this and why you're trying to keep your distance."

I avoided to look at her. "So, what did you tell him?"

"I told him that usually, both mates mark each other as a sign of respect, if you can call it like that. Dominance and submission belong into a relationship but they go hand in hand and not by force."

Once more, silence settled between us for a few minutes while we were both lost in thoughts.

"Look, the submission mark you put on Nero is kinda like a big messy knot in your relationship." Interesting comparisons she was using. Though she did sound a bit like a hippie … or maybe a little like a stoner.

"Okay thanks but what exactly does that mean to me?", I queried.

"It means it's up to you to untangle your mess", she said as if it was obvious. "But you have to find out yourself how to do it."

Never ask a witch for advice.

* * *

The light was on in our bedroom. I carefully pushed open the door, seeing Nero in bed, reading one of Kyrie's journals. Great.

"Dante, take a look at this", he mumbled, gesturing to me to get closer.

"Nero, I thought we'd agreed that –"

"Yeah, I know but I thought I've overlooked something." He pointed at the corner of the endpaper, peeling it off. One single word was written or rather carved into it: _moriar_.

"Dante, what does it mean?", Nero asked.

I swallowed. "It means 'I'm going to die'."

So Kyrie had known it all along? But why did she write the single word there in Latin? My head started to pound as another flood of questions started to float into my head.

Nero meanwhile looked completely shocked, mouth hanging open as he stared at the small book in his hands. I put my arms around him, soothingly stroking his back. He stiffened a little before returning the embrace, leaning his forehead against my shoulder.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

_She looks so graceful, even when she's asleep. _

Pheolae watched her mate sleep, taking in her relaxed expression, her scaly golden skin that shimmered greenly in the eerie light of the candles that lit up the room, the deep red lips that were curled into a soft smile …

It had been an exhausting day for both of them. Pheolae had shown her new queen how to use her powers today, making sure she'd be prepared for the oncoming battle. She absentmindedly brushed through her mate's long hair, the structure feeling silky under her fingertips, as she waited for sleep to consume her as well.

"Do you like my replacement?"

She froze, sitting up and staring at her mate. Empty eye sockets bored into her gaze, the golden skin replaced with charred black skin and burned, once bright red and orange feathers.

Yulija sat up, adjusting the flower crown on her head. It was made out of half-decayed roses, the edges of the petals black and grimy. Patches of her once beautiful skin clung to her skull, her bone structure visible on several spots of her body where her skin had burned off completely.

"She's no replacement", Pheolae said quietly, not daring to raise her voice above a hushed whisper, terrified by what she saw in front of her. A nightmare come to life.

"She's no replacement", Yulija repeated, chuckling quietly. Her lips trembled. "What is she then?" Suddenly, she started screaming. "_You_ didn't get to me in time, it's _your_ fault I had to die! And now …"

She drifted off, seeming to stare into space even though her blind eyes couldn't see anymore. "Then, you even cheated on me to gain power and for what?"

"To be with you again", Pheolae replied in an instant, "I wanted us to be together again."

"But this is not _me_!", Yulija screamed angrily, "I am _dead_ and even your little spell won't bring me back! What in Lucifer's name did you think would happen? That suddenly your wish would come true, that asking for a little power could turn back time?!"

Tears began to fall from her empty eyes, the liquid thick as blood and dark as ebony. It flowed down her chin and dripped onto the bedding but didn't leave any stains on the creme-colored sheets.

"She's beautiful, isn't she? My copy –", Yulija's charred hand tenderly stroked Pheolae's cheek, her nails scraping over her skin. Pheolae swallowed thickly, forcing herself to not flinch away.

"Look at you", Yulija whispered venomously, "You are disgusted by me. Am I not pretty enough anymore? Is that why you always told me you loved me? You shallow bitch!" She get louder again, the hardened tips of her nails scratching Pheolae's cheek but they left no wounds.

"You know that's not true", Pheolae sighed but Yulija's index finger pressed against her lips, gesturing to her to keep quiet.

"I don't want to hear it." The steady stream of black tears didn't cease as Yulija got up with some difficulty, walking around in the room. As usual, there were flames dancing under her feet with every step she took. Still, she didn't look as graceful as she had once been. Some pieces of clothing were clinging to her deceased body, fluttering with every movement; some pearls that had been sewn into her gown still shining as they were illuminated by the green light.

"Remember the shelter you created for me? The small lake with the cranes?", Yulija asked into the silence, approaching the harpsichord that was standing in the room. Her fingers touched some keys and yet, there was no sound coming from the instrument.

"I remembered this place while the flames ate me alive, thinking that it was kinda ironic for me to die in a fire", she continued, her voice soft and steady, a raspy edge swinging in it from her destroyed vocal chords. "I asked myself why you bothered creating it in the first place when you actually didn't care if I died or lived."

"I did care and I still –"

"Silence."

Pheolae obeyed again, watching Yulija as she moved around in the room.

"We are damned, my love", Yulija said in a sing-sang voice. "Both you and I. And my instable copy." She spun around, a flicker of gold breaking through the black. "You know she's instable, don't you?"

Pheolae whispered a 'yes', staring at Yulija as she approached the bed again, unable to move from her spot.

"Instable, just like your sanity."

Pheolae nodded, knowing that she lost her mind many years ago when Yulija died and their mate bond broke.

"Ah, my love – but your sanity isn't the only thing you lost. You also lost your sense of judgment." Yulija's voice turned thin and shaky now. "What have I done to be remembered like this? Easily replaced by one of your experiments?"

"She's no experiment", Pheolae piped up but was quickly interrupted.

"Shut up!", Yulija roared, more tears falling from her eyes. "Your little plan won't work and you know it!" Her voice cracked as she become more furious with each passing second. "You have ruined everything since the moment you went into The Void, ever since you got involved with those living nightmares! But nevertheless, you got involved with Daevus and then you even decided to ask _Him_ for the power of raising the dead!"

"I'm sorry." The words were barely audible over the sound of Yulija's sobs.

"Sorry?", she repeated quietly. "It doesn't matter anymore whether you're sorry or not. You know how this is going to end, my love. And you know it's your own fault."

Smoke started to fill the room, thick and black, making Pheolae choke on it as she helplessly watched her former mate disappear in flames, screaming for her to come back.

Seconds later, everything stopped, a cool hand feeling her forehead.

"You screamed in your sleep, Mistress", her mate said, her completely black eyes staring at Pheolae's face. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"You could call it that", Pheolae replied, pulling her closer to her, trying to keep herself from shaking. Someone was sending those illusions to her. Or was it her conscience, her deep guilt, that made Yulija up? She was dead, gone forever and Pheolae had only dreamed of her …


	8. I Will Not Serve

Given To Destroyers

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.

**Warnings in general:** Bad language, violence, lots of blood, and yaoi.

**Warnings for this chapter:** angst, blood, the usual doom and gloom.

* * *

Interlude – I Will Not Serve

"This is the sixth time he's whipped you, Verroth. It's getting out of hand."

Pheolae rubbed a potion onto her brothers back who bit back a scream. The substance she smeared onto the deep wounds on his back hurt terribly. It was meant to burn away the poison the whip had been soaked in, the sharp pain almost as bad as the infliction of the wounds.

He grunted in response, hearing her sigh. "It can't continue like that", she said, "What did you do this time?"

"Showed mercy", Verroth replied, "I let the enemy retreat." He gasped as she treated a particularly deep wound. "Their army was broken anyway, killing off each of them would have been dishonorable."

"What did father say about that?", Pheolae asked, carefully applying more of the potion onto his back.

"He said I wasn't made to act _human_", Verroth replied, his voice empty, "And he promised to repeat the punishment until I finally understand." He tensed up under his sister's hands. "He also doesn't want you to –"

"To tend your wounds", Pheolae finished. "I know. But that doesn't stop me from doing it. The way he treats you is –" She searched for words, the only thing she could come up with being 'human'. Pheolae frowned.

Some moments passed while Pheolae finished healing Verroth's wounds, soothingly stroking his back once more. It was marked with several wounds, the scars only light because she took care of them before the poison could hurt him too badly. Ironically, it was the poison she had developed herself. A request from her father – she couldn't refuse him anyway, no matter what.

"Can't you do something to my skin?", Verroth asked into the silence, "Strengthen it, toughen it up somehow? Work some of your magic?"

Pheolae ran her hand over his back. "I could try", she said, "But it irreversible, Verroth. It would change you forever."

He stared at her, Pheolae attentively studying her brother's face. After his first transformation, his now mocha-colored skin would turn darker and darker until it became black, thick and rough-textured, similar to a crocodile. The bright green eyes boring into hers would forever be altered, the pupils turning to slits, the left eye would replaced by a mechanic implant, his body armored with steel. He would never be the same and the same applied to her.

But none of them were aware of that right now, despite their dark premonitions.

Verroth sighed. "Being a warrior isn't easy."

"Our lives will never be", Pheolae said. "Father wants us to carry his legacy."

"He doesn't want us to rule", Verroth pointed out. "Whatever he wants from us has nothing to do with our true legacy."

"I know", she said for the second time tonight, "He wants us to destroy until nothing is left." She shrugged. "The one and only reason we were created."

"The whole Underworld is laughing about us", Verroth said quietly, "They call us bastards."

"_They_? Who exactly?"

Verroth looked at the floor bitterly, sensing this would turn into a tragedy very soon. "The few who survived the assaults", he replied then. "The things are going now, there won't be many survivors left."

"The clans won't put up with this for long", Pheolae said thoughtfully, "Somebody will eventually rebel against father."

Verroth shrugged. "We're damned one way or another, so why does it matter?"

"Since when are you so pessimistic?", she asked. Verroth usually wasn't so cold and bitter, only turning this way when he stepped on the battlefield.

"Since my own father started punishing me for not being how he wants me to be", he answered, "Ever since I commanded troops to kill. Pheolae, I've become someone I never wanted to be and it's too late to change it."

"It's not too late –"

"Yes, it is", he interrupted her coldly, "And soon, father will tell us about our true legacy. We both know we were not made to rule. A commander and an alchemist – what kind of royalty would that be? Whatever he has planned for us will be something entirely different."

Silence settled in between them once more as they stared outside, noticing the sky has turned black, ashes raining down from the heavy clouds …

* * *

_A lone note hung in the air, sounding deep and mellow before the melody started to climb upwards on the scale, growing louder and louder, more aggressive. The player applied more pressure onto the bow, the gentle notes turning choppy and incoherent before the melody became darker. Suddenly, there was a sharp chord, followed by an unmelodious chromatic scale, climbing up to the highest note in shriek tritones before it stopped completely with a dramatic trill._

"_Long time, no see, little brother." Vergil stepped into the light, his viola in one hand, the bow in the other. Yamato was secured in its usual sheath._

_I grinned smugly, stepping closer. "What a coincidence. You changed, Vergil. I almost don't recognize you."_

_His gaze remained cold, no emotions flickered over his features. "Aren't you surprised?"_

"_That you didn't die in the fire?" My facial expression mirrored his own. "Like mom?"_

–

_The old gramophone played an orchestral song, sounding dramatic and – at least in my opinion – way too loud. _

"_I don't like this."_

"_Dante, you need to –"_

" – _stop being an ignorant idiot", Vergil completed mom's sentence._

"_Vergil!", she exclaimed, "That wasn't nice. I want you to apologize."_

_I stuck my tongue out to him and he grumbled lowly in his throat. "Sorry, _little_ brother."_

–

"_I can't stand looking at you, Dante." Lady's voice cut through the silence like a knife. I merely shrugged in response. _

"_Admit that you have a problem", she continued, concern now lacing into her voice, "Seriously Dante – what's with you?"_

"_Get out."_

"_The fuck I will. It's been three months and all you did was sitting here."_

"_So?"_

"_Get your ass up and do something. Anything. I don't know, just be your usual self again. You're scaring me."_

_At that, I angrily stared up at her. A staring match ensued that she lost. _

"_Did you know that Love Planet has been closed?", she asked into the silence, not looking at me. "The Bullseye Bar as well. They're shutting down that part of the city." _

_She still waited for a reaction. When none came, she continued, almost in a whisper. "Maybe you should try to forget about what happened in that tower as well, Dante."_

"_This is not only about Temen-ni-gru", I finally said. This is about me killing Vergil. I've spent the last few years trying to forget about what happened there and now, I had met him again as a soulless puppet. This is a fight with my own conscience for killing him, this is about taking responsibility. And more importantly – this was something I didn't want to deal with._

"_Get out", I repeated once again. A shot rang, a bullet flew through the air, hitting the wall behind me. I merely raised my head, letting out an annoyed huff._

"_Why are you not appreciating my help?", she asked angrily, tucking her gun back in._

"_I don't need your help, I'm fine by myself."_

"_You are not", she said mockingly, "You don't want to let go of the past, Dante and that makes you a –"_

"_What's that to you?", I asked completely enraged, slamming my fist onto the table. _

"_Your fucked-up past doesn't give you the right for special treatment!", she screamed back, "You didn't kill Vergil – he was dead before. All you did was –"_

"_SHUT UP!"_

_She stared at me, eyes wide. I was panting heavily and covered my face with my hand. Too much happened on Mallet Island, too many things I forgot about resurfaced. I didn't want to deal with that bullshit._

_A crumpled ball of paper landed on my desk. Lady was already leaving. "Got a job for you and you're gonna take it. No discussions."_

"_Lady...", I said and she turned around again, lowering her shades._

"_Don't worry, this never happened."_

–

"_You're moving out? Why?" I ran after Trish who secured her suitcase on her motorcycle. It was raining heavily outside and both of us were soaked within minutes._

"_Dante, this doesn't work."_

"_What doesn't work?"_

"_Us living together. We'll still be business partners but –"_

"_I thought that –"_

"_Stop."_

"_Stop what?" I was confused, didn't understand why Trish was running away from me._

"_Stop acting like I'm your mother", she said quietly. "I'm not her. I will never be. I'm not her replacement."_

"_I know that!"_

_She nodded, biting her lip. "No. No, you don't." Then, she was already gone, leaving me alone in the rain._

–

_The notes flew like water as mom played the harp. Thousands of little water drops, painting the silence with their colors. It was a tranquil melody, it showed movement but it wasn't quick. _

_Now, the viola joined as well, playing the main melody while the harp was only the accompaniment. _

_I peered inside the room, feeling as if I was watching something I should have never witnessed. I stared at Vergil, the way his faces was twisted in concentration and... emotions. The way he followed the song, the way his hand glided over the neck of the viola, the way he held the bow._

_I pulled myself away, feeling queasy out of a sudden. Was I jealous because he spent so much time with mom? No. It was something else I couldn't place and it unnerved me._

–

_This was madness and I knew it. I kept on weighing the pocket knife in my hand, thinking about what I was going to do._

_I knew I shouldn't have felt this euphoric feeling when Vergil hurt me when we thought the other day, knew that it was wrong and sick but still … _

_I rolled back my sleeve, dragging the blade over my skin. The small hairs on my arm stood on end and I felt my heart pounding in my ears in excitement. Wrong, wrong, so terribly wrong – _

_I cried out when the cold metal cut through the skin, dragging it down a few centimeters before abruptly withdrawing. _

_Blood was oozing out of the wound – it only was a small cut and it was already healing but I couldn't stop the shudder that still shook my body._

_The line between pain and pleasure was surprisingly thin and I didn't know what to make out of this new information besides feeling alienated from myself._

* * *

The fire beasts disappeared as the Queen sent them away, walking up to her mistress.

"You are ready for battle", Pheolae said proudly, kissing her on the lips. Black eyes stared into hers, a hand threading through her hair.

"I can't wait for it to start", she rasped, a smile tugging on the corners of her mouth. "Give out the warning, Mistress."

"I hope you know what you're doing", Yulija whispered into Pheolae's ear, her ghost always following her around. "Because once you cast the spell, there is no way for any of us to go back." She smiled at Pheolae – a malicious and evil and completely uncharacteristic thing for her to do. "It doesn't matter how many times I tell you how instable she is but you'll see soon."

Pheolae shivered even though Yulija was just made up by her mind, the breath against her neck only a hallucination.

"He wants you to destroy until there's nothing left, _Creatrice_", Yulija reminded her, "You and Verroth both failed at your simple task, leaving him trapped in the Underworld. How does your conscience deal with all the guilt?"

Pheolae ignored her, leading her mate back to their quarters. The spell would be cast soon – and her plan had to work then, otherwise …

She closed her eyes, breathing in and out unevenly. For her, there was only one option. Either it worked or she was going to die, simple as that.

"If only it was that simple", Yulija chuckled, "There are things that are worse than death, my love. Ask your father, he will tell you."

Pheolae tightened her hold around her mate, speeding up her steps. No way she was going to back off now, she had planned this for too long.


End file.
